Re-Visions
by randi2204
Summary: Now complete! What about the condition that Van has to fulfull? Will Van and Hitomi ever be happy?
1. Chapter One

ReVisions Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own this twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine, or you need to watch again. (Grin) (No one that I own appears in this chapter, though.)

Re-Visions

Chapter 1

Hitomi sat on her bed, knees pulled up to her chin, arms wrapped around her legs. Her room was dark. It was well past midnight, yet she couldn't sleep. She stared blankly at the opposite wall, then closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her knees.

What time was it on Gaea? What time in Fanelia?

How long had it been?

_I'm doing all right_, she had whispered to her vision of Van, just the other day. She had been- then. She had not lied to him.

She could not say the same now.

How long had she been home before she discovered the shining link with him still existed? It had been a long time, nearly a year. One night, not too long ago, she'd been almost this lonely. Suddenly, she blinked and was with him, in his mind. That's when she noticed the silvery thread.

He, too, had been feeling sad. She'd smiled, and tried to fill his mind with happier thoughts, startling him.

She was comforted by her visions with him, when they talked. When she couldn't see him like that, she was comforted by her thoughts of him, her memories. She had thought that would have been enough. She thought that her brief visions and their short half conversations would be enough. But they were not. She loved him, and wanted to see him, more than she could say. At times it was almost more than she could bear. Like now.

She felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she looked up again. Was that a stirring, just at the edge of her senses? Was it he, touching her mind again? "Van . . .?"

No. There was a slight breeze through her open window. It ruffled the curtain, tickling the back of her neck. Bringing her the scent of an open field.

This was not the first night she'd had like this, but it was the first one that had been this lonely. She was too full of her memories of him to sleep. She felt the pressure of tears prickling in her eyes, and tried to stop them unshed. She had been so connected to him in that last battle that she had known his pain- could he feel hers now? She hoped not. She didn't want him to know how much she hurt . . .

He had wanted her to stay, but had not tried to keep her. There was an old saying, and now she wondered if they had it on Gaea, too. _If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours. If it doesn't, it was never meant to be_. Did he . . . love her?

He'd known how much she missed her family. He had been torn from his own so early, she knew he sympathized with her plight. He'd even sworn he'd get her back home somehow. Even if it no longer felt like home anymore . . .

Could I have been happy there? she wondered. I . . . I think so.

Would I go back if I could? I don't know. It would be hard . . . so hard to leave everything I know . . . everyone . . .

Finally giving in to the tears, she laid back, letting them soak into her pillow. She pressed a hand to her chest, hoping to still the hard ache within. She formed an image of him in her mind- slim, wiry body, dark flyaway hair, hanging into his eyes, those deep, intense eyes- and managed to smile through her tears.

"I miss you."

***

Van Fanel, king of Fanelia, had everything he wanted.

At least, he thought, everything I said I wanted.

He looked down upon the few flickering lights in his city from the glade in which Escaflowne slept. His city was slowly rebuilding. That brought him no small measure of pride. Zaibach was defeated. Gaea was slowly recovering from the backlash of the power of Atlantis. What was there left to want?

His eye was drawn to the Mystic Moon, high in the sky.

He had climbed up here at dusk, needing to be alone. It was full night now, and the Mystic Moon glowed a brilliant blue against the stars. He covered her pendant with his hand. "Hitomi . . ."

Just yesterday, holding the pendant, he had heard her voice, whispering his name. He'd turned, half expecting to see her behind him, smiling gently. She wasn't there. Ghostly words on the wind reached his ear. "_I'm doing all right_." He could even hear the faint smile in her tone. He hoped she was thinking of him.

There was hardly a moment when she wasn't in his thoughts. He'd found that even when he worked himself into exhaustion, he often couldn't sleep for thinking about her. At least the hard work he took on helped to distract him, and made the pain easier to take . . . if only slightly.

As long as our thoughts reach each other, I said. I didn't know then that every time our thoughts touched, I'd feel the pain of her leaving all over again . . . But seeing her, knowing it was only for a little while, was better than not seeing her at all.

She often came to him in his mind- her actual presence, not just his thoughts of her. Their brief contact would sustain him for a while, but he always grew morose and short tempered after they parted again.

He sat down in the grass, damp and cool, still gazing at the Moon. For an instant, he wondered again if there was something he could have said, or said differently, that might have persuaded her to stay. 

I could have told her I love her . . . He lay back onto the grass and folded his arms under his head. But how could she not have known? How . . .

He could almost imagine Allen's vaguely mocking response to the unasked question. _Sometimes, Van Fanel, a woman just wants to be told. She can see it in your actions, and know it in her mind, but for her to feel it in her heart, she needs to hear the words._ Is that what she wanted? Van wondered. If I would have told her, she might have stayed . . . But she missed her family so much . . .

He felt a raindrop against his cheek. He tore his eyes away from the Mystic Moon, and glancing around, saw with some confusion that there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The pendant was warm beneath his shirt, but now he felt it growing hot. "Hitomi?" He closed his eyes. Was she trying to touch him now, so late?

She was there. He could see her, her light brown hair drifting in a breeze he didn't feel. One hand was pressed to her breast, the other at her side, palm toward him. He was surprised to see the tears gliding down her cheeks, to feel the unexpected pain in her as if it was his own. He could see that she was smiling despite her quiet sobs. _Van_ . . . She bent forward a little, and reached out to him. _I miss you_ . . .

"Hitomi," he breathed. "I miss you, too . . ." He sat up, opening his eyes, and stretched out his hand. She was still there, against the backdrop of the stars, so close, transparent fingers almost touching his, then she was fading, gone.

He blinked at the sudden pain in his chest, and mimicked her gesture, pressing one hand against his breastbone. It subsided only slowly, and he recognized it all too well. He had first felt it when he had seen Allen kissing Hitomi, and it had only grown when Allen had told him he'd asked her to marry. Finally, it had settled in to stay when he had sent her home. He closed his eyes again, hand now clasped around her pendant.

Desolation. Loneliness. Despair.

Love.

She had wanted to stay. Why did I send her back? Why?

What would have happened if we had touched?


	2. Chapter Two

ReVisions Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own this twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. (No one that I own appears in this chapter, however.)

Re-Visions 

Chapter 2

Hitomi came awake by inches. Dimly, she could hear her mother in the kitchen. She tried to close her ears, to return to that beautiful dream, even though she had dreamt something similar nearly every night. She had seen Van in the glade, and reached out to him, even though she hadn't thought to touch him. But he had seen her, had reached back, grasped her hand. He pulled her from her world, pulled her to him. She felt his strong arms around her, and embraced him fiercely in return.

"Oh, Van," she murmured against his shoulder. "You won't send me back this time, will you?" She pulled back to look into his eyes.

He smiled, and opened his mouth to answer.

And she woke up.

She found that she was clutching her pillow to her chest. She curled around it for a moment, hoping, wishing that it wasn't just a dream. Desperately, she thought, This is the dream, and when I wake, I will be with him . . .

But for many long moments, nothing happened. The world surrounding her did not waver and drift away, and when she finally opened her eyes, she saw only her own room- not the Earth and Moon in the sky. Her sigh as she pulled herself upright was half a sob.

She was still here. She had wished herself back with her own power once, but it seemed that only Van could take her _to_ Gaea. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

She got up and looked out the window. She saw the sun rising high in the sky, felt the warm breeze on her cheeks. Closing her eyes, she heard the rustle of leaves in the tree outside her bedroom. She could smell summer in the air, and she breathed it deeply. The pain in her heart slowly subsided.

I'm alive, she reminded herself. More importantly, he's alive, and there were so many times when he might have died. We're still linked. I can touch him and know that he's all right . . . whenever I need to know. She let that knowledge fill her with joy. Suddenly, she felt that she might have enough strength to face the day, and took another deep breath. What can I use to fill my day? She wondered. Well, Mom will have more chores for me, because it is vacation.

Before she could turn from the window, for an instant all her limbs turned to water. Briefly, she sagged against the windowsill, and blinked, expecting to see another time and place._ What she saw was oddly ordinary, and somehow, all the more strange because of its very normalcy. It was like looking at a black and white photograph. The shadows were jet black against a harsh white background. She could see the tree outside her room still in leaf, but untouched by a breath of wind. She turned. She felt weightless, as if she could simply drift away. It was her own room, but completely stripped of everything hers. All her pictures were missing. Her desk and bed were still in place, but the desk was bare, the bed bereft of sheets. Her closet stood open, and it too was empty. From far away, through the closed door, she could hear the sound of weeping. _

She slammed back into herself, puzzled by her vision. She dragged herself upright, startled by her continued weakness. It had never been like this before . . . Not in stark black and white, not with weakness, and certainly not anything so ordinary as her room. Well, she'd fainted once or twice, but that wasn't the same thing at all. Everything was in color again, and all of her things were back, her strength returning.

She plunked down in her desk chair, and reflexively reached for her tarot deck. Its familiar feel in her hands as she shuffled and cut aided her concentration. What was that about? She asked herself, idly watching her fingers. Well, why would I clean out my room? I'd want to take along my things and clothes when I go to college . . . Or if, for some other reason, I was to leave home . . . 

If Van were to come for me again . . .

Her hands squared the deck, preparing to deal out a reading. She managed to stop herself before revealing the first card. No, she told herself firmly, deliberately setting the cards down in the center of her desk. No. I may be back on Earth, but these cards caused too much anguish on Gaea for me to use them again. I still have a shred or two of my power. I'm not going to cause any more pain with my anxious feelings. No more readings.

Quickly, she moved to her dresser, pulling on her running clothes. I'll do twice around the block and a sprint. I've got to keep in practice. She was pattering downstairs, running shoes in hand, when her mother appeared from the kitchen.

"Hitomi? Breakfast is ready." Her hair was a darker shade than her daughter's, and beginning to grey. Although she was still fairly young, her face was lined with cares. Now, her brow was wrinkled in concern for her oldest child. She knew that Hitomi rarely ate before her workouts. To her mind, Hitomi was nearly too thin, and with all the running . . . Not that she wasn't proud of her daughter's successes on the track team.

Hitomi was already pulling on her shoes by the door. "Thanks, Mom, but I'm going running. I'll have some when I get back. Or you can eat it." Grinning, she directed the last to her younger brother, yawning his way down the stairs. "See you later!" With that, she was gone, already dashing down the walk.

"Mom, did she really mean I could have her breakfast?"

Mrs. Kanzaki sighed. "No, Ichiro, I'm sure she'll want it when she gets back. Now, you go eat your own." She shooed her son into the kitchen, glancing back over her shoulder as she did so. She shivered in the sunlight.

Was it just her, or had a cloud lifted from the house as her daughter left? Inwardly she sighed. No, it was only her imagination.

"Ichiro! Leave your sister's breakfast alone!"

Hitomi was just finishing her sprint, counting the seconds in her mind when she stumbled. The pavement hove up to greet her. She was going at such a rate that her hands hit the ground hard, and actually skidded out from under her. Her elbows and knees finally stopped her.

"Ow, ow, ow," she hissed as she picked herself up. She began an inspection of her injuries. Both of her palms were scraped and cut, and were actually oozing blood. She felt a sting up the underside of her arm, and looked. She found a deep scratch, filled with grit, as were her hands. There was a trickle of blood down one shin.

Angry with herself, she glanced back to see what had tripped her. There was nothing- no hole, no root or rise or even a crack in the sidewalk. Bending down to blot the annoying tickle from her knee, she noticed a deep scuff on the toe of her shoe. She had tripped herself.

I've never fallen like that before, she thought sourly as she started stiffly walking home. Well, I fell when I had my first vision, and then again when I collided with him. But that wasn't like this. She opened the door to her house and crept to the bathroom, hoping no one would catch her. Once there, she locked the door and began to wash her scrapes, wincing as the soap stung. Looking into the bloodied water, wringing out her cloth, she half expected to be drawn into another vision. After all, she thought, many of my visions were about death and dying, and were triggered by nothing at all, or by words or . . . 

But nothing happened as she watched the water swirl down the drain. After a moment, she turned from the empty basin and found ointment and bandages.

Now cleaned and bandaged, Hitomi returned to her room. She stripped off her sweaty running clothes, and dressed in a pair of loose old pants and a tee shirt. She sat on her bed, still unmade, and pulled up her knees, staring across at her pictures. Seeing them triggered a memory of the earlier vision. Why would I see that? she thought, frowning. But it was replaced by a slow, sad smile. Yukari and Amano- I'm glad that they are happy. I'm glad they have their chance. Her eyes unfocused, looking within. _I wish_ . . .

With a quick shake of her head, she brought herself back. How can I be back to this longing already? she wondered plaintively, burying her head against her knees. The sharp little stab of pain she felt from her knee was as nothing compared to the deep ache in her chest. She pressed one sore hand between her breasts. For a little while, she breathed deeply and evenly, to keep the tears from coming. She forced herself not to follow the link to him. She didn't want him to know how much being apart from him hurt, fearing it would hurt him, too. Finally, the pain subsided to a slightly more bearable level, and she was able to lift her hand. _Van_ . . . In her mind, she saw him as she had at the shore, seated on the reef, wings extended above him, giving her that gentle, slightly sad smile. Even though she knew he couldn't see her now, she smiled tremulously in return. She felt her love for him fill her body.

Picturing him helped. Not much, she conceded, but a little. She stood up, and turned to make her bed. If I keep busy, she decided, I won't have time to be sad. Too bad that school is on break, but it's only for a little while and then . . . then . . . 

_Then the ground opened up beneath her, and she was falling into a bottomless pit of darkness. She opened her mouth to scream, but the speed of her fall sucked the breath away from her. She tried to keep herself calm as her sight went fuzzy and black around the edges. She'd had this vision before. The angel . . . Van . . . would come and grab her hand, holding on to her as if to say, I'm never going to let you go . . . _ But this time, there was no strong angel to pull her up.

The pit wasn't bottomless, after all.


	3. Chapter Three

ReVisions Chapter Three Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own this twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. In this chapter, I own Tev, and no one else, I think. 

Re-Visions

Chapter 3

The first thing that Van had decreed as king, when all the city folk had returned from the mountains, was that he would see every home rebuilt before work began on the castle. What little that had been done to the castle was abandoned in favor of the city proper. The wall around the town had been breached only at the gate. Sturdy timbers bound with iron stood again, the towers rebuilt. Then began the backbreaking work of clearing the rubble. 

Some cynics sneered and called it a bid for loyalty. "Just wait," they said. "Before the city's half done, he'll be calling for us to work on the castle, so he can have a place to rest his downy head." 

Merle heard it every day, or some variation. Each time, her tail puffed up, and she had to clench her hands into fists to keep herself from tearing out someone's eyes or tongue. She knew it wasn't to make the Fanelians loyal to him. He was truly concerned about his people. They needed their homes and businesses more than he needed a castle. He often said as much to her when she whined. 

"Merle, I have a responsibility to these people." His voice was a bit stern, but his eyes pleaded with her to understand. "They are many, and they need shelter, they need security. What does one man- even if he is king- matter against that?" She could say nothing, because she knew he was right. 

Immediately after Hitomi left, Van threw himself into the reconstruction with fervor. Prudently, he left the city planning to the architect on loan from Asturia and the surviving advisors, saying he had no knowledge of this sort of thing. Instead, he loaded rubble into carts, to be hauled away and dumped. He hammered boards and set shingles onto rooftops. He worked as hard as any two of his subjects, every day. He had, for a year now. 

Merle watched him, her eyes sad. Today, some work crews were clearing rubble from around another section of houses and businesses, while others would start on repairing the roofs. In truth, despite the best efforts of the Dragonslayers, more had been burnt than destroyed. Most of the city of Fanelia had been made out of stone, not wood. Here and there, homes had been crushed, but only where the battle had been waged against the Zaibach assassins. The charred wreckages of the Guymelefs of the Fanelian samurai had been the first things taken away. Their bodies had been consumed in the conflagration, bones and all. Walls stood blackened all around, but they still stood, a testament to Fanelian tenacity. Van was helping a crew of men replace the roof of the house on the corner of two streets. Once that was done, they would start on the interior. In a few days, they would start another roof. 

She knew what he was doing. It was obvious to her that he was trying not to think about her. About Hitomi. He slaved in the hot summer sun all day, worked himself into exhaustion every night, just so he could take his mind off her. 

"Hitomi, you idiot," she muttered, watching the men walking on the newly placed roof beams. "You should have stayed. He's miserable without you." If there was any justice, she thought darkly, she'd be miserable too. Even that knowledge didn't comfort her in the face of Van's pain. 

The work gang on the roof was, to a man, naked to the waist. Even Van had taken off his shirt and thrown it to the ground. After the first few days, the men he was working with had ceased to be in awe of his status, and accepted him for what he was. Now, they all treated him like a younger brother, which he seemed to enjoy. It was good for him, Merle knew. She watched a few moments more, smiling slyly. Oh, Hitomi, you don't know what you're missing! 

The hard work over the months since Hitomi's departure had begun to show. Van had started to fill out, although he would never have an extremely muscular build. He'd inherited his mother's thin frame, and his strength would always be wiry. He'd started to gain his father's height- and his brother's, when she stopped to think about it. He'd already shot up at least three inches in the past four months. This was the result of the hearty meals the Fanelian goodwives provided, those who weren't washing, mending or helping to rebuild. 

Speaking of those chores, Merle thought, I've got to get going. She hefted the basket she had set on the ground. It was full to the handles with laundry needing to be washed. She needed to get this to the goodwives at the river, so it could be cleaned. Then she'd carry the clean and dry laundry back to the appropriate owners. The laundry was still communal, and would be until more homes were finished. No one minded pitching in, Merle least of all, though she often whined to Van about her blistered fingers and sore feet. In truth, she was fine, but her complaints seemed to take his mind off Hitomi, at least for a little while. If it helped him at all, she was content to seem a crybaby. Resting the heavy basket against her hip, she picked her way down the littered street. She hadn't gone more than a few steps when she heard a fearful shout from behind. She turned, afraid suddenly, her eyes searching for Van. 

Van was tired, and it seemed he'd been tired forever, sometimes. He forced himself to act cheerful around the men he was working with, but some days it was hard. Exhaustion did not always bring him relief. Often, he would be almost too weary to stand, yet could not fall asleep. Her green eyes haunted him, filled with tears as they had been, more than a month ago. He hadn't been able to see her since, to find out why . . . and lately, he'd been too tired to try. 

He shook his head, flinging his hair out of his eyes. Come on, Fanel, he told himself firmly. There's work to be done here. He started across the crossbeams that would support the roof, to some of the lighter boards that would actually form the roof itself. He wanted to get this one finished. There's still so much to do, he thought, despair weighing him down. 

Suddenly, there was a yawning pit before him, and he was falling, falling . . . He stumbled on the high beam, lost his balance and started to fall. He heard a cry from behind him- "Lord Van!"- even as he started to plunge into the cleared interior of the house. What was happening? 

His first instinct was to use his wings, but they'd only get fouled on the way down, and in any case, he'd probably hit the ground before they materialized, anyway. His arms flailing, he managed to grab hold of the neighboring beam, a little lower. He had been on the topmost beam. Splinters dug into his palm from the rough-hewn wood, but that was infinitely better than breaking his head open on the stone floor below. 

Within moments, the other workmen were swarming over the beams. Two men grabbed his arms and hauled him back up. The oldest man in the group, the foreman Tev, was one of them. He was a big, hearty man, who looked out of place on the roof, as if the beams wouldn't support his heavy frame. His hair and thick beard were the color of sunlight, and his eyes a piercing blue. "My lord, what happened?" 

Now seated at the edge of the roof, next to the ladder, Van put a hand to his head, then winced and pulled it away as a stab of pain reminded him of the wood imbedded in his hand. "I . . . I don't know," he replied honestly, staring at his palm. 

From below, Merle watched anxiously, but quietly. She couldn't hear what was going on, but she could see Van's back. 

Tev frowned, and studied his king's face. He saw deep circles under the young man's eyes, the pallor of fatigue beneath the tanned skin. "I think I know, my lord." Van looked up into Tev's steady gaze, startled. "You've been throwing yourself into this everyday, and worrying about it at night, as well. It's good that you're concerned about your people, my lord, but too much worry isn't good for you. You're completely exhausted, and liable to become sick, if you don't kill yourself first." He glanced at the other workers meaningfully, then back at Van. Van nodded, dropping his eyes. "Get you down the ladder, go back to your doss, and sleep. Don't even think about coming back here until tomorrow, or, king or no, I'll blister your ears for you. Go on now," he ordered, not unkindly. Van nodded again, pulling himself to his feet. 

The other men called out as Van climbed down the ladder. "Rest well, my lord!" "More careful next time, lad!" Tev was still watching as Van collected his shirt and tugged it on. "Poor lad," he said softly, shaking his head. "To have so many cares, so young." He saw Merle approach Van, and called out, "Oy! Merle! Make sure that His Majesty gets some sleep! Tie him down if you must, but he's not to do another lick of work until tomorrow!" 

Merle waved at him, then turned to scamper after Van, still lugging the heavy basket. 

"It's all right, Merle. You don't have to follow me," Van told her, stopping to let her catch up. He started to pull out the splinters, grimacing a bit. 

Merle shook her head, pink curls bobbing. "No way. You almost fall and kill yourself, and you say it's all right? I'm worried about you." Her voice was quiet, and Van was surprised. Normally she'd be shrieking at him by now. "Lord Van, I just want to make sure you really go back and sleep, and not go to the grove." Her deep blue eyes looked at him steadily. "Or I will have to tie you up. You need sleep, Lord Van, and you won't get it by thinking about Hitomi." 

Blushing, he glanced away from her. "Who said I was . . ." He cleared his throat and turned, walking up to the ravaged castle. "I was not thinking about her. I don't think about her." Unconsciously, he brought a hand up to touch the teardrop pendant, now hidden beneath his shirt, giving the lie to what he said. 

Merle sighed, and trotted after him again. "Lord Van, don't be so stubborn. I know you do think about her. You're working so hard so you won't think about her, so you won't have time to hurt. But you do," she finished softly. 

He stopped again, but didn't face her. Almost whispering, he asked, "Is it that obvious?" 

She snorted. "Only if someone happens to look at you." When he spun around in surprise, she smiled and continued, "No, only if they know you as well as I do." There was a moment's silence before she asked, "Does she talk to you?" 

He faced the ruined castle again, and hunched his shoulders. "Sometimes," he admitted. "Sometimes, I can hear her voice. Sometimes, I can even see her. She's so clear I think that if I just reach out, I can touch her . . ." He closed his eyes and took a ragged breath. "Sometimes, it's as if she can feel what I'm feeling, as if she were in my mind. When that happens, she starts to . . . channel good feelings, that's she's happy, and she wants me to be, too, as if she could tell I was sad before." 

"Is that what just happened?" 

He shook his head. "No. I . . . I'm really not sure what just happened. I was fine, and then, all of a sudden, it was like I was looking into the deepest, darkest hole you can imagine. I had a terrible sensation of falling. I blinked, and I really was falling. I don't know . . . but I had the sensation before I actually fell. I'm sure of it." 

He felt Merle's hand on his arm. "Lord Van . . . " He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She bit her lip, as if unsure what to say. "She . . . she was connected to you, she knew what you were feeling in the last battle. If you're still connected, like you say . . . you might have somehow been caught up in one of her visions . . ." 

"Why would she still have visions now? She's safe at home with her family . . ." He trudged up the roadway. 

Merle shrugged. "It was only a thought." The basket was dragging at her arms. She scowled down at it, then at Van's retreating back. She dashed around him and stood in front of him, blocking his way. Van was surprised at her glare. "Lord Van, I have to take these clothes down to the washerwomen, or they won't dry, and then someone's going to be unhappy. Promise me you'll go to sleep, even if I don't go with you." 

He smiled slightly, and touched Hitomi's pendant again. "All right. I promise on this that I will go get some sleep. Is that all right?" 

She nodded, and picked her way back down to the city. He shook his head after her and finished the climb to the remains of the castle. 

Some of the upper stories and the towers had been severely damaged in the Zaibach attack. The walls of the first floor seemed solid enough, but would probably need serious work before they could support the upper flights again. That the castle, like the rest of the city, had been made of stone, was the only reason so much of it was still standing at all. 

Many of the city folk were using the castle as a refuge, especially on rainy nights. There was more shelter here than anywhere else in Fanelia. Tents were erected in the charred gardens behind the ruins as well. Van entered the cool dimness, passing bedrolls and blankets in the corridors and halls and chambers. There was no one around, even though people's possessions- what few that had survived- were in plain sight. Everyone had so little left that it was beneath the dignity of everyone to take anything. He hoped that this honesty would prevail even after the reconstruction was complete. It would certainly make my task a lot easier . . . 

Van's own blankets were on the second floor, in what used to be his room, when he was still a prince. The window had been shattered by the heat of the fire, and not even kindling remained of all the furniture he'd had. No bed. No chest for clothes. No desk or chair. He sat on the edge of the windowsill for a moment, staring up at the sky. There was a room with a balcony down the corridor, but the balcony had been damaged, and it didn't look safe. The Mystic Moon and its companion could not be seen from this side of the castle now, anyway, he thought. Tonight, they'd hover just outside his window, looking like they were close enough to touch. He'd drift off to sleep, looking at them . . . 

He closed his eyes, shutting out the dazzling brightness of the summer sun. His head started to throb. The headache was from fatigue, he knew, but it would probably keep him from sleeping. I promised Merle, he thought, and dutifully laid on his blankets. At least the room would soon be fully in shadow, he thought as he kicked off his boots. 

The second he closed his eyes, she was there. Again, he saw her against the stars, the tears falling from her sad eyes. Why are you crying? He wanted to ask her so badly. But she faded even as he reached out to her. "Hitomi . . ." he murmured, still half awake because of his headache. Silently, he called her. _Hitomi . . ._ He smiled, picturing her. She was walking towards him, smiling in return. 

_Van?_

He could almost hear her voice . . . Suddenly he felt her laugh in his mind. _I'm here, Van- if only for a little while. Open your eyes . . ._ He did as she asked, and there she was, shimmering in the sunlight. Before he could do more than gasp, she knelt down beside him, her expression serious. _Are you all right? Are you sick?_ She studied him as he gaped at her. _Hmmm, you look so tired. Let me massage your temples, to help you sleep._

At her gentle touch, he let his eyes drift shut again. Her fingers soothed away the pain in his head, and he felt himself relax. For what seemed like a long time, she stroked his forehead. Then he smiled up at her, his eyes still closed. "I'm so glad you're here, Hitomi. It's like I'm dreaming . . ." 

He heard her sad reply. _But you are dreaming . . ._

Her words jerked him awake, and he sat up, panting. There was no indication that she had been there. Dusk had fallen- he had obviously been asleep for the entire afternoon. He drew up one knee and laid his arm over it. The Mystic Moon was just rising over the mountains as he considered his dream. I've never had a dream so real, he thought, resting his chin on his forearm. I could feel her hands on my forehead. They were cool, and she knew just where my head hurt. He studied the Mystic Moon for a moment. Hitomi- were you really here? Yes, he decided firmly. Only for a little while, but here. 

His stomach rumbled, and he decided to get up and see if there was any supper left anywhere. Unlikely, as everyone was famished at the end of the day . . . He nearly put his foot into the chipped bowl beside his blankets. Someone- probably Merle- had left him some stew and a hunk of hard bread. Odd that he hadn't woken when she entered. Both were still warm, so it hadn't been too long ago. He tore into his meal. Soon enough, the bowl was empty, and he set it aside as he stood. The moons beckoned him, and he leaned against the window, as he had done earlier. 

He was still tired- he knew he would be able to sleep again when he laid back down. He clasped his hand around the pink teardrop of her pendant. He was a little surprised he felt as good as he did. It had been a long time, since she left . . . He closed his eyes and thought of her, trying to thank her. 

He had the sensation of flying, and looked down. It was always this way for him. He couldn't just appear in her mind, as she did to him. She said he needed to practice. He could see her. It was dark on the Mystic Moon now, but she sat in the light from the smaller orb. She was outside, sitting near a tall tree, but not hidden by its shadow. As he watched, she laid on her back in the grass, staring up at the starlit sky. He waited, then felt a tug, and knew she was thinking of him. That might be why this is so easy, he thought. He let her pull him to her. Unerringly, he landed at her side, and knelt beside her. He eyes were open, looking at him, and she was smiling. 

"Van . . . you're here." Her happiness washed over him. 

_Hitomi_, he thought. _Thank you_. He loaded the thought he projected to her with all the gratitude in his being, knowing that she picked up on his feelings. 

Her laugh echoed quietly in the stillness. "You're welcome. It was the least I could do . . ." Abruptly, she stopped, and he could see that she was upset. 

_What happened? What do you mean?_ It was times like this, when he wanted to question her, that he wished he could speak to her the way she spoke to him . . . 

"It's nothing," she said, noticing his expression. "Just a vision I had today that was strange." She hesitated, and he waited, knowing there was more, hoping she would tell him . . . Finally, it all came out in a rush of feelings. _Like at the mine . . . falling . . . endless blackness . . . reached out, but you weren't there . . . thought something may have happened to you . . . so sorry . . . didn't mean for it to catch you . . . I'm sorry!_ He realized she was crying softly, even as she tried to stop. 

He reached out to touch her hand, but couldn't make contact_. Hitomi, it's all right._ He imagined putting his arms around her, to comfort her. That worked better. He watched her smile again, and wipe away the tears. 

"You are still tired. You should go back now. This will be even more tiring for you because you're not used to it, even though the pendant helps you focus. Go rest now, Van . . ." 

She was right. He was much more tired now than when he'd awoken_. Come back with me_, he pleaded, then bit his lip. He knew she felt all the longing he had behind that thought. He hadn't wanted her to know . . . 

She smiled sadly at him. "I'm the one who's dreaming this time . . . Go back, Van. I . . . I miss you. Stay safe for me." 

He blinked and was staring at the moons again. They had moved up in the sky just a bit, and the sky was a velvety drop of midnight blue. Yawning, he shuffled back to his pallet and rolled into it, hearing her words again. _I . . . I miss you . . .._

For the first time in many nights, the king slept peacefully. 

On the edge of his city, however, the destructive blossom of fire grew again. 


	4. Chapter Four

ReVisions Chapter Four 

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own the twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. In this chapter, I own Kenji, and no one else, I think.

Re-Visions 

Chapter 4

Nothing was important . . . nothing at all. Hitomi stared straight ahead. She heard people around her, but they were meaningless. She felt her muscles tense, ready to take the leap . . . 

BANG!

She sprang forward, coming off the blocks as fast as she could. 100 meters in front of her the track stretched, beckoning. She pumped her legs faster, faster, feeling the way her spikes dug into the track.

Halfway there. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears. She let herself think about the finish line. Now, and only now, was that important. He was there. She imagined him waiting for her, his wings stretched above him.

She stretched her legs to their utmost, as she pounded down her lane. The other runners were forgotten, as if they never existed. Eyes forward.

Almost there. A few more strides . . . She dipped forward a bit as she approached the finish line, then up again as she crossed it. She slowed to a jog, continuing up the track a few more paces. She took a couple of deep breaths, then turned back, to the coach and Yukari and the rest of the team. She hadn't been counting the seconds in her head, as she often did, but she knew it was her best time so far this season.

"Hitomi!" Yukari grabbed hold of her as she approached, and hugged her hard. "Hitomi, that was great! Look at your time!" Still holding onto her with one hand, Yukari showed her the stopwatch with the other. "You've shaved almost a full second off your best time from last year! Amano will be so proud of you when I tell him!" Now the other girls on the team were milling about her, and Hitomi felt her face flush from more than her exertion. She didn't want the adoration she saw on some of the younger girls' faces, nor the resentment she saw on the rest.

"Great job, Kanzaki!" the coach congratulated her, before turning to the other girls. "Did you all see how she came off the blocks? She hit her stride immediately and never overreached. I want you all to be able to do the same by the next meet!" A collective groan went up from the knot of girls. "None of that! All of you should be as dedicated as Kanzaki!"

Hitomi wanted to shrink into invisibility. She hated being put on the spot like this. She did the best she could, hiding behind Yukari, who didn't notice. The coach was giving her friend instructions, regarding the next practice.

As the cluster of girls broke up, Hitomi started to shiver. The air was cold, and the chill finally started to invade her muscles. She trotted back to her duffel bag, and pulled on her jacket and warm-up pants. They didn't help much, and she rubbed her arms, trying to chafe the warmth back.

Unconsciously, she raised her eyes to the purple sky. The sun was setting, casting strange shadows. As she had so many times, she wondered where Gaea stood in the sky. I suppose it doesn't really matter, she thought, closing her eyes, her face tilted toward the heavens. As long as we can reach each other . . . She let her mind reach out to him, smiling as she gently touched him. She often did this, following her link to him many times for no other reason than she wished to know he was all right.

As it sometimes happened, Van didn't know she was there. She knew he was in his room at the castle. The winter had been mild in Fanelia this year, but still cold. He sat in the empty window hole, the temporary shutter thrown open. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt and a cloak, but the chill still touched him. She shivered a little in sympathy. At least, she comforted herself, he wasn't sleeping here. Great fires had been lit in some of the empty halls- nearly everyone who did not yet have a home rebuilt slept there, kept warm.

He was staring up at the late afternoon sky, and Hitomi realized he was looking for the Earth- the Mystic Moon. He reached for her pendant, and she was rocked by the sudden wave of sadness he felt. Very faintly, she caught the edge of his thought. _I miss you . . . Hitomi . . ._

He missed her, as much as she missed him, it seemed. The few times they talked, she usually said that she missed him, her voice very soft, almost as if she didn't want him to know. He usually replied in kind, and she caught the inexplicable gratitude in him, that she spoke first.

Without a second thought, she began radiating reassurance to him. She wanted him to know he needn't feel so lonely . . .

"Hitomi?"

The voice behind her startled her and she jumped. It was gone, but not before she felt him smile. She turned.

"Yukari?"

Her friend was staring at her. "What were you doing, Hitomi?"

She shivered again and picked up her bag. "Nothing- just thinking."

Yukari grinned as they started walking. "Just thinking? About what, I wonder? Or whom?"

Hitomi felt her cheeks grow hot again. "What are you talking about?" she asked, eyes ahead.

"What do you mean, 'What am I talking about'? You know very well what I mean! Who were you thinking about? Seems to me it was a boy . . ." Yukari's grin got wider. It was always so much fun to tease Hitomi . . .

The corner of Hitomi's mouth twitched. "Well, maybe . . ."

Yukari stopped walking. "No! Who was it? What's he look like?" She was amazed that the shy girl next to her would actually admit anything of the kind.

Hitomi looked away, a few steps in front. She didn't want Yukari to see her grin. "He looks like . . . Well, he's tall and slim. He's got long, long legs, and his hair is cut to his shoulders. It's kind of a medium brown. He's got light brown eyes and an oval shaped face, with a little point to his chin . . ."

Yukari had been nodding throughout the other girl's description, but suddenly froze. "Hey, just a minute . . . what's his name?" she asked suspiciously.

Hitomi spun around and stuck her tongue out at her friend. "Amano!" She laughed at Yukari's disgusted expression. "Nyah! Well, you were teasing me, so it's only fair . . ."

She trailed off as the world went dark around her. Oh, no, she thought despairingly. Not this- not now! But the vision carried her away, despite her protests.

_She stood at the window in her bedroom. The tree outside was in full leaf, but untouched by a breath of wind. The shadow of the tree was dark against the ground, against the house, against the floor in her room. Everything else was starkly white, wherever the light touched. Slowly, she turned from the window. It was her own room, bereft of everything hers. The desk stood bare and empty, the bed stripped, with the covers folded neatly in a pile. All of her pictures, her posters, her trinkets were gone. The open closet door showed that it, too, was empty. From far away, she heard the sound of weeping. As if walking through water, she made herself move toward the door. She touched the latch, and a million years later, the door started to open. As it swung wide, the weeping grew louder . . ._

"Hitomi!"

She blinked, and realized she was laying face first on the ground. Her duffel bag had fallen next to her. Slowly, she pushed herself up on her arms, and her head throbbed at the movement. Her whole body ached, and her arms were quivering, even from this slight exertion. Before they abandoned her completely, she forced herself to her knees. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her arm, and looked up into Yukari's worried face. She helped Hitomi lean back until she was sitting with her back against the wall of a nearby school building.

"Hitomi, are you all right? What happened?"

Hitomi put one hand to her head. "I'm ok . . . I think."

"Kanzaki! Uchida!"

They turned at the sound of the voice calling out their names. Someone was running toward them. They could tell it was a young man, about their age, perhaps a little older. Yukari recognized him first. "Hey! Matsuda!" she called and waved to him.

He was running hard, but wasn't out of breath when he reached them. He knelt by Hitomi. "Kanzaki! What happened? I was across the way. I saw you talking to Uchida, and then you just fainted, it looked like."

Matsuda Kenji was in their grade, a new student whose parents had just moved to the area. He had joined the track team that spring, and it looked like he was going to take Amano's place as the boys' star. He was tall and lanky, and when he wasn't running, he seemed awkward, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with his long arms and legs. When he was on the track, though, he was covered by an odd kind of grace. His hair was black, and he wore it fairly long, tied back into a neat ponytail. His eyes were a dark brown, and wide set over his high cheekbones. His nose was a bit pointed, but the rest of his face was more round. When she first saw him, Hitomi had been surprised by his slight resemblance to Amano. But it was obvious from the first that he and Amano were not at all alike. Where Amano was, on the whole, a kind, gentle person, not much given to temper, Kenji was dark, brooding, and prone to hitting inanimate objects when he didn't reach his goal or get his way.

Hitomi had started to avoid Kenji as much as possible since the beginning of the school year. She was a bit scared of him, but she couldn't say why. He'd never been anything other than polite to her.

Yukari answered Kenji's question. "She says she's fine, Matsuda. I don't know what happened. She was talking to me, and then her face went all blank and she fell. I couldn't catch her. Did you hurt anything, Hitomi?"

Hitomi could feel her face growing red, from the pair of them staring at her. "I said I was all right! Nothing feels broken. I just . . . felt weak, that's all." She looked away. She'd never told Yukari about her visions, and she certainly wasn't going to tell Matsuda. She couldn't even tell her mother . . . at least, not this particular one. From strange, it had become frightening. It seemed there wasn't a day she didn't have it- and it was always the same, except that each time, she was able to take that extra step. Today was the first time she'd been able to open the door.

Yukari, looking at her closely, asked Kenji, "Do you think it's anemia, or something like that?"

Kenji was studying Hitomi, also. "I think it might be. She's awfully thin, too, Uchida. I don't see how she can run like she does when she doesn't even eat."

Outraged, Hitomi spluttered, "I do eat!" Talking about me like I'm not even here, she thought angrily. Neither paid her any attention until she grabbed her duffel and started to stand. Kenji scrambled to his feet as she turned away.

"Hey, Kanzaki! Where are you going?"

"I'm going home," she replied coldly, not stopping. Her legs still felt a little unsteady and she held herself very straight, to keep from jarring her aching head. Suddenly, she felt herself lifted off her feet, and she squealed, almost dropping her bag again. Before she knew it, she was cradled in Kenji's arms. Over his shoulder, she caught a glimpse of Yukari's stunned expression. "What are you doing?" she demanded. "Put me down!"

"I should think it's obvious. I'm taking you to the nurse, to make sure you're all right." Kenji's voice was pleasant, but a bit confused at her tone. He didn't stop, however, and continued walking into the schoolyard. Hitomi squirmed in his grasp.

Yukari managed to shake off her amazement, and started after them. "Matsuda! Wait!"

He slowed a bit, but didn't stop, even though Hitomi was trying to get down. "What is it, Uchida?" The shadows were think in between the buildings, and when Hitomi looked up into his face, the dark mask over his features frightened her.

"The nurse goes home right after track practice has finished. She's been gone awhile. You can't take Hitomi to her now."

He stopped then. "I guess not. Are you sure you're all right?" he asked Hitomi again. His worry for her was evident in his tone.

Hitomi forced herself to be polite. "I'm fine, thank you. I do appreciate your concern, but would you please put me down now?" She knew her face was beet red. It felt so hot she didn't think a bucket of ice water would cool it.

Sighing, Kenji swung her down, and she landed lightly on her feet. He still kept his arms around her, and looked down into her face. She was grateful now for the shadows- they might hide her blush. She looked away, at the ground, anywhere but at his face. Yukari stood next to her, but Kenji didn't seem to notice. "So much for chivalry," he said with a half smile. His voice was very soft. "But let me claim a reward for good intentions." Before Hitomi even knew what he was about, he bent down and captured her lips with his. Surprised, she did nothing, her green eyes wide.

The kiss lasted only a moment. She never responded to his touch, but, again, he wasn't aware of it. When he drew back, he was smiling, as if he'd won some great prize. With a quiet "Goodbye," he was gone.

As soon as he was out of sight, Hitomi scrubbed the back of one hand against her lips. His touch made her tremble, and it wasn't with anticipation. It was with dread, almost with disgust, and she didn't even know why. She had to stop herself from gagging. With her hand still on her mouth, she was suddenly reminded of the kiss she shared with Allen. She'd awaited that, longed for it, yet when he had kissed her, it left her wondering what she'd been waiting for. It had been passionless, she thought now. Even though she recalled the warmth of his body, his kiss had not imparted any to her, no heat, no desire.

She knew now it was because she loved Van even then in her heart, though her head still wanted Allen.

This one was worse. She had not asked for it, had wanted no part of it, and yet it had been forced upon her.

Van . . . She had seen the hurt on his face when he'd caught her and Allen kissing, and it had hurt her in turn, though she hadn't known why. She didn't want to cause him any more pain. She couldn't tell him this . . .

"Hitomi?" Yukari had watched her strange actions. "Are you sure you're all right? What are you doing that for?"

She realized she was still rubbing her lips with the back of her hand and stopped. Shouldering her bag again, she replied, "I didn't want his kiss."

Taken aback, Yukari asked, "Well, why not? If a cute guy kisses you, why wouldn't you want it?"

Hitomi turned away, looking deeper into the shadows between the buildings. It was quite dark now. "Because . . ."

_Because he's not Van . . ._

"Because I don't like him." She brushed her hair back from her face and started walking. She really didn't want to have this conversation, not now. From what little Yukari had said, she believed that the dragon and Van and the pillar of light were all just a weird dream. Hitomi knew her mother had mentioned in passing missing her and dreaming about her, but didn't remember her being gone. How can I explain that I was gone for months in another world and helped fight a war there? How can I explain that I love a man who doesn't live in this world? When no one believes that I've gone anywhere? She heard Yukari running to catch up with her.

"Why don't you like him? What is there not to like? He's good looking, smart, a great runner, and I hear his father has a lot of money. He works for some big corporation. Why in the world wouldn't any girl like that?" Her friend sounded genuinely puzzled.

Silently, Hitomi sighed. Well, she thought, not everyone can have visions, and I suppose she can't understand my hunch that he's just dark. "I don't know," she said truthfully. "I just don't." She kept on walking, and said over her shoulder, "Come on, let's get going. We're going to be late for supper. Both of our moms will be upset if that happens."

Behind her, she heard Yukari laugh. "I was right! There is someone else you like!"

That stopped her. My face is going to be permanently red, she thought irrelevantly as she felt her cheeks heat. Forcing her tone to be as normal as possible, she asked, "What makes you say that?"

Yukari peeked around her shoulder, and Hitomi thanked heaven that it was now too dark to see clearly. When she spoke, her friend's voice was serious. "Then what's the matter? You haven't been yourself for more than a year- almost two years now. You don't touch your tarot cards anymore, and you've been depressed and distracted. All you do is study and run. You don't even want to spend time with our friends anymore." She threw her arms around Hitomi, startling her. "I'm worried about you, and the only think I can think of is that . . . that you still like Amano . . . and that's why you're acting like this." Hitomi was even more surprised to feel her friend's shoulders start to shake. "If that's what it is . . . if what you said before is true . . . and you still want to go out with Amano . . . I . . . I . . ."

"Oh, no! Yukari, that's not it at all!" She embraced her weeping friend. "No, Yukari, I don't have a crush on Amano anymore. I'm happy for you, that you're together with him, even though he's so far away." She pulled back, and watched as Yukari wiped her cheeks. "I promise you, that's not it." She smiled sadly, and put a hand on the other girl's shoulder. "I'm sorry if I haven't been myself. I've got something on my mind . . . but I'm not ready to talk about it yet. But you'll be the first to know when I am. OK?"

"Promise?" Yukari sniffled, brown eyes wide.

"I promise. Now, let's go home." As they walked away from the schoolyard, Hitomi felt a sharp stab of pain in her chest. I'm sorry, Yukari, she thought. But I can't tell you. The sky was dark when she looked up, and the first stars were making their appearance. For an instant, she saw an image of wings against the stars. Van, she thought, as the feathers faded into the bright points of light. I need to tell you . . .


	5. Chapter Five

The Vision of Escaflowne 

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own the twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. (No one that I own appears in this chapter, however.)

Re-Visions 

Chapter 5

To Van, the winter had seemed very long. Once the snows started, all work on the city had to cease. At least most of the streets had been cleared of rubble before then, he thought, staring down at his city. I just wish we'd been able to finish more homes. Even with all the work everyone had put in over the past two years, only about half of the city had been finished. The line of demarcation was easy to spot, between the still abandoned sections and those where people were living. Any bit of stone that could possibly be reused was piled near the burnt out structure which it would rebuild, or brought up to the castle. Most of the stone would be used here, anyway, he knew. What was needed most in the city was wood.

He leaned his head back against the stone of the window frame. He'd thrown open the shutter, to let some of the wan sunlight in, but it also let in more of the chill air. He was glad for his cloak, but gladder still for a few moments alone. His councilors- those who had survived- and the remaining samurai had cornered him right after the first snow, and insisted that he start reading and responding to the letters from other kingdoms. In addition, they had a number of decrees they wanted him to sign. At least half of them were so idiotic that he refused. They were a little surprised that I read them at all, no doubt, he thought, a bit resentfully. He knew he was young- it would be his birthday in a few weeks- but he intended to rule. The role of advisors was to advise; nothing more. He would not be a puppet prince for them. She would not respect him if he were . . .

He tried to find the Mystic Moon in the late afternoon sky. He closed his hand about Hitomi's gift to him, and let his loneliness wash over him. It had been hard to find things to keep himself busy, to keep himself from missing her. Merle scolded him gently whenever she caught him "moping", but he knew she only did it out of her concern for him. He made sure that he was alone, or that she was busy when he let himself think about Hitomi. He wondered what she was doing now. I miss you, Hitomi, he thought, longingly.

Without warning, he felt her, radiating her reassurance, telling him silently that he didn't need to be so lonely . . . He smiled. She often did this- she would smile and call it her mental hug for him. Somehow, she knew when he was in need of her touch, and would comfort him.

Just as quickly as he was aware of her, she was gone, her concentration broken by someone calling her name. He was alone again. He sighed and released her pendant. Maybe I'll be able to reach her tonight, he thought hopefully. He stood up and stretched. His muscles had been feeling tight lately. He knew it was from the way he'd been just growing and growing. He tried to work a little warmth back in too. He'd been a long time away from the fire.

Everything seemed to be wrapped up with fire, he thought. Fire had destroyed the city once. Now, someone was determined to do it again, if only one building at a time. Throughout the summer months, fires had been set at several different building sites. They were small and fairly easy to contain, but still discouraging. Van was frustrated that no one had been able to catch the firebug. No one ever saw him set his blazes. It was like he was invisible.

The crinkle of paper as he limbered his arms recalled to him why he'd come upstairs. He pulled out the sketches he'd done for how he'd like the castle to be redone. He didn't want a replica of the Asturian palace, which he suspected he would get if he let the architect have his way. But he also didn't want to rebuild the old palace, the way it had been. He knew what he wanted- something defensible and strong, but also something that was pleasing to the eye. In addition, he wanted to incorporate some ideas he'd had for the interior. I knew it would be difficult . . .

Leaving his room, he wandered down the corridor, rounding the corner, carefully picking his way as this section had received a lot of damage. He'd been this way several times, but it didn't hurt to be cautious. He had been through these halls so often, long before the burning, that he stopped at the doorframe he wanted, even though the door with Fanelia's crest no longer hung there. His parent's rooms- the king's rooms, traditionally. He'd never slept there as king, but there had been many, many times he'd come here to gain comfort from his memories.

Van stepped through the empty doorway. As with every other room, the fire had consumed everything, blackening the walls with soot. But in his mind's eye, he could see it as it had been when his parents had been alive, and even after. This was their sitting room. There were thick rugs over the stone floor to keep out the winter chill. Heavy drapes hung over the windows, rich red in color, as red as the dominant shade in the rugs. The fireplace in the wall to his left had the crest of Fanelia over it- now warped from the heat and charred. The door in the left-hand wall, next to the fireplace, led to his father's study, done all in crimson again. Red was his father's favorite color, red like the crest. It was Van's own favorite color. His father had had shelves of books in his study. If he stretched his memory to the utmost, Van thought he could remember his father reading to him, though he could easily recall Folken doing the same.

But he was not interested in his father's study today. Instead, he went the other way, toward the bedroom and stopped in the doorway. Of the huge bed with its canopy and curtains, there was no sign. Opposite him, on the far wall, were two doors. One lead to the bathing room, the other to a small room intended as a nursery. Before his mother, the room had been a changing room, or a closet, or some such, but she insisted that it be emptied out. Both he and Folken had slept there, though he had no memory of it. One of the maids had told Van this long ago, with a tear in her eye. Though many had distrusted the late queen, some had loved her.

He closed his eyes, and could see his mother's wardrobe, her vanity by the window, the great bed, even the rugs that had lain on the floor. Opening his eyes again, he counted off his paces, marking the stones on the floor as he crossed the room, and knelt in about the middle.

Years ago, perhaps three years after his family fell apart, he'd found a loose stone in the floor. It had taken all his strength, but he'd managed to pry it up, and had discovered a space underneath. Promptly, he'd piled all of his mother's jewels into the hole, not wanting them to disappear before she returned. It had been a couple years after that when he'd given up hope that she would return. He could also remember putting in the scroll that Folken had once read to him, about the Dragon Slaying of the first king of Fanelia.

He tapped at the stones thoughtfully. They all sounded solid. Would it work? he wondered, and pictured the hole in his mind. The pendant swung . . . that one. He began to lever it up, just as he had long ago.

Many of the letters his advisors had forced him to read offered loans from other kingdoms at exorbitant interest- or as a dowry . . . I'm not a fool. I know this is going to be costly, rebuilding an entire city and castle. But if I can use Mother's jewels, even just a few, I might be able to do it without breaking the country . . . He refused to let himself think about the other, shackled to a princess for the sake of money. The stone clattered as it fell away from the hole.

On top was the scroll, a bit singed around the edges, but otherwise untouched. The stones of the floor had been sufficient insulation after all. Beneath it, as he carefully lifted the scroll out, was his mother's jewel case.

His father had liked nothing better than to shower his wife with jewels. Van could recall one such gift, not long before his father died. He'd handed his mother a small box as she held Van on her lap. When she'd opened it, the stone within had dazzled his young eyes. She'd laughed her silvery laugh and said, "My lord, I can't wear half of the jewels you've given me. But I thank you." She'd set Van down and stood to give her husband a kiss.

I want that, he realized, the box nearly forgotten in his hands. I want to be able to give her gifts like that . . . to have her love me . . . Blinking away the tears that threatened, he opened the lid. The result was blinding, even in the dim light. It was full to the brim with sparkling stones. He stared in disbelief. I'd no idea . . . Then one in particular caught his eye. Slowly, he lifted out the necklace. The delicate chain was of gold, and it supported a small round stone of dark green. Transfixed, he gazed at it for some time. He imagined it gracing Hitomi's white throat, resting in the hollow of her collarbone . . .

"Stop it," he told himself firmly, shaking his head. He laid the necklace gently back in the case, beside the matching earcuffs, then looked at the rainbow of glittering gems thoughtfully. It was likely that he'd have to use them, he knew. Had his mother lived to this day, he was sure she would have insisted on it long since. She would not have worn them anyway, after his father's death. Even when he was alive, she often only wore her wedding ring. But I'll wait, for a little while, anyway. He replaced the case into the small hiding place, and the scroll as well. The stone settled into place with a soft "thunk".

He opened the shutter covering the window opening, and was surprised to see the sky was growing dark. He hadn't realized how late it was. He pulled the shutter closed again and strode from the bedchamber. Supper was calling him. It seemed now that he was forever hungry- it often took three bowls of stew to fill the empty pit of his stomach. The goodwives always just smiled and re-filled his bowl. "A growing boy does need food," he'd overheard one say to another, laughing a bit. He'd flushed, embarrassed, and the woman had continued, "Oh, my lord, no need for that! It's only the truth, and from the look of you, my lord, every bit is going into your legs!"

After supper, Merle caught him crawling back up the ladder again. "Lord Van, what are you doing?" she asked, hands on her hips. He grimaced. She'd appointed herself his guardian, it seemed.

He didn't reply until he'd reached the top. She started up the ladder after him. "Merle, I just need to be alone for a while," he said, hoping she'd just climb back down.

He heard her snort. "So you can go and think about Hitomi and feel sorry for yourself?" She was close enough to see him blush, even in the flickering torchlight. When she reached the top, she leaned toward him, feet still on the ladder, and asked softly, "When is she going to come back?"

Startled, he glanced at her, then away, standing up. "You know she's not," he replied in a low voice.

"Have you asked her?" She rested her weight on the top rung of the ladder and stared up at him innocently, her blue eyes wide.

He shook his head and turned to walk away.

"Do you think maybe you ought to ask before you decide for her?"

"Merle! Stop it!" His tone was harsh, but still quiet. She saw how rigid his back was, his hands clenched into fists. When he spoke again, his pain was evident to her. "Please, just stop . . ."

She hopped up onto the landing and walked around him to face him. It wasn't too long ago, she reflected, that I'd have leapt all over him, and been glad Hitomi wasn't here. I know he wants to be comforted, but I also know I can't. He won't be comforted by me, anyway. I can't do that anymore. "Well, don't you think so? She can't give her answer until you ask the question!"

He started walking away from the ladder, down toward his old room. "It's a question I can't ask her and you know it. All the time she was here, she wanted to go back to her family and her friends. I can't ask her to leave them again."

"She came back once for you, didn't she? What makes you think she wouldn't again?" She could see that she'd surprised him. She sighed. Men. Sometimes they could complicate the easiest things. Why do we put up with them? she wondered. But she had her answer when she saw him smile. She hadn't seen Van smile in so long, she couldn't remember when. It lit up his whole face, and made him look just like a little boy.

"I've been stupid, haven't I? You're right, Merle, thank you!" He grabbed her in an impulsive hug and just as quickly released her to disappear down the dark corridor.

She sighed again, and ran a hand through her tousled hair. Her tail twitching, she listened as the sound of his footsteps faded. "Well, my good deed for the day," she said with some satisfaction. "She'll come back- she must miss him as much as he does her. And when she finds out how he feels about . . . her . . . oh, damn!" Her blue eyes were wide as she realized. He hasn't told her how he feels! If he had, she'd've come back long ago. She started running after him on all fours, swearing under her breath. Maybe . . . no. This is Lord Van. He's got to keep everything personal bottled up inside, she thought. She stopped outside the open doorway to his old room, and peeked in.

He was already sitting in the window, one leg drawn up and foot braced against the other wall. Merle could see the pendant glowing softly through his fingers. He had his face to the sky, as if studying the position of the stars, but she knew he had his eyes closed. "Hitomi," he whispered.

Merle was right, Van thought as he left her at the landing. If she came back once, why not again? And when she came back . . .when I could see her again . . . touch her hand . . . The thought ran round and round in his head, never finishing. He could only imagine happiness at her return.

He strode across his room to the window. He'd left the shutters open earlier, and the Mystic Moon was high in the sky when he leaned out to search for it. He seated himself in the empty frame, leaning against one stone wall and propping a foot up on the other. He concentrated on her, closing his eyes. In his mind, he could see her smiling at him.

He was flying again, flying without his wings. It was a bit disconcerting, but he ignored the strangeness and looked down at the ground. She had to be nearby . . . He waited until he felt the tug that meant she was thinking about him. It always warmed him inside to know that she thought of him. He let her thoughts carry him along . . .

When he landed, he was standing inside her bedroom, in the bright artificial light. She was lying on her bed, her head turned toward him, her smile almost as dazzling as the light. She sat up immediately, and flicked off the lamp on her desk. Now the light was much dimmer, and came only from a frosted glass bulb on the ceiling. She was the brightest spot in the world to him, anyway.

"Van," she breathed. "I'm so glad to see you." She beckoned to him, and he gladly approached her. Even if he wasn't actually present, he enjoyed being near her. He felt a bit nervous as he sat next to her on the bed; after all, this was where she slept . . .

She picked up on his nervousness, but not on the reason. "Don't worry," she said softly. "I locked the door. My parents won't come in." Surprised, he thought privately, Well, that helps . . . a little bit. He tried to hide his feelings of embarrassment- he'd never been in her room before, and couldn't help feeling . . . odd. He tried to bury that, too, so she wouldn't know about it.

He looked at her again, and saw that she'd pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. Her eyes glittered brightly as she stared at him, her cheek resting on her knees. But she wasn't smiling. She wasn't speaking. _Hitomi, is something wrong?_ he thought, projecting his concern.

She shook her head, apple green eyes never leaving him. "No, nothing's wrong." But even as she said the words, he felt a flash of thought from her, quickly surpressed. _Damn that Kenji!_ He was shocked. He'd never heard her swear before.

_Who is Kenji?_ He felt frustrated that he could only give her his feelings. He wanted to say the words! He scowled slightly.

Sighing, she looked away. "I guess you caught that, from your expression." He nodded. "I think I know what you're thinking. You want to know who Kenji is. He's a boy in my class at school. He's on the track team, too. There's something about him I just don't like. He did something today . . . something that I didn't want him to do." She gave a short laugh. "I didn't want to tell you . . . I didn't want you to be upset . . ."

He was staring at her in fear and dread. What could have happened? Why was she acting so different from her usual self? He had the feeling that he didn't want to hear what she was going to say.

She picked up on his feelings, and turned back to him, eyes wide. "No!" She moved so that she faced him, kneeling on the bed next to him. If she could have taken his hand, she would have. Her expression was earnest, and he could feel her willing him to believe. "No! I didn't want him to do it!" Suddenly the scene flashed in his mind. He saw a young man, his arm around Hitomi. The boy bent down and kissed her. Overlaying it all was her revulsion, her dislike of the boy. Van could not look away, but thankfully it was brief. When the boy broke away, he watched with some satisfaction as she wiped away the kiss, as if it had never been. She wished it had never been.

"There's something that I did want to tell you, Van." Her voice was very, very soft. When he focused on her again, he realized with a start that tears were rolling down her cheeks. His heart ached, to see her cry.

_Oh, Hitomi, please don't cry . . ._ Forgetting that he wasn't really there, he reached out to wipe the tears from her face, but stopped when it seemed she was shrinking away from him. _Hitomi?_

"No! Van, come back!" He heard her call very faintly. She was surrounded by darkness- an impenetrable blackness that started to swallow her up. She was so far away, but he could tell that she had one hand stretched out to him, even as she receded further from him.

_Hitomi!_ He started to push his way to her, through the void, but he couldn't get any closer to her. He could hear her in his head, calling to him, begging him not to go, when all at once, it stopped. Her cries were cut off in the middle of his name. He could still see her, so far off, a faintly shining blue blur around her. He reached out to her even as he felt himself flying backwards, away from her. She disappeared, still glowing dimly.

"Hitomi! No!" He could hear his own voice, and believed that this horrible vision was over. 

But before he opened his eyes, he thought he heard another voice. _No, young king . . . she can't control . . . she can't anymore . . . Never again . . ._

Then all was broken, and he was back in himself, staring at the night sky. He realized he had lifted one arm, just as he had in that vision, to reach out to her. He let it fall to his side. The other hand still clutched the pendant.

Numb. He felt numb. He knew that the pain would start in a little while, just as it did with a physical injury. But right now, there was nothing.

"Lord Van?" a voice called softly.

Merle. She wanted to know when Hitomi . . . to know when . . . The hurt flickered at the edge of his awareness, but he kept it at bay, taking a shuddering breath. He closed his eyes again and bowed his head. "Not now. Please," he whispered. "Please, leave me alone . . ."

He didn't see how her ears flattened in sympathy. Tears filled her blue eyes as she retreated. I guess . . . I guess it wasn't such a good deed, after all, she thought dejectedly as she shuffled down the corridor. No, the thought struck her suddenly. No, I know Hitomi would have come back if she could. I'll have to get Lord Van to tell me what happened . . . when he can.

Van heard the soft scuffle of Merle's shoes fade as she left. When he was sure she was gone, he let the pain sweep over him, let the despair crush him. There had been a terrible sense of finality in the words that voice had spoken, like he would never be able to see Hitomi again . . . He felt his shoulders begin to shake at the thought, felt the scalding hot tears start to spill down his cheeks. He still grasped her pendant in one hand, but now he pressed it against his chest, praying to end the unbearable ache within. Great wracking sobs tore from his throat as he hid his face against his upraised knees.

_Never again . . ._

Author's Note: Good place to end it, ne? (evil grin) Please review!


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own the twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. In this chapter, I own Kenji, and no one else, I think.

Re-Visions 

Chapter 6

Her head throbbed mercilessly as she lifted it from her arms. Hitomi groaned at the crick in her neck and raised one hand to massage it. She'd fallen asleep at her desk again, her homework still unfinished. She almost decided she didn't care, but there were only a few more questions left to answer. She forced her sleepy mind to concentrate. It's only for a little bit, she told herself sternly. Then . . . then I can go back to sleep and dream of him again . . . She rubbed her eyes, as much to stop the tears as to wake herself up.

It had been one year, one month and five days since Van had been ripped away from her in that last shared vision. She had fainted from the shock of it, and had not awoken for hours. She had immediately tried to reach out to him, but the link led her to a wall, dimly glowing. No matter how she tried, she could not get around it, over it or through it. She kept trying for a long time, and finally, exhausted, she let herself slide back down into her body again, and cried into her pillow in frustration. She felt no small amount of guilt- the last thing she'd said to him had caused him pain, and she knew that it sounded like she was going to hurt him again. I only wanted to tell you I love you! She had wept a long time before falling into a fitful sleep.

When she had awoken the next day, her head felt like it would fall off her body at the slightest movement. Her mother had taken one look at her, the deep shadows under her red rimmed eyes, her face pale except for splotches of feverish color in her cheeks, and her careful motions, and sent her right back up to bed. Gratefully, Hitomi had gone, undressed and crawled back under the covers. She'd spent the day alone, while her parents were at work. Immediately after her mother had left, Hitomi had been hit by a series of frightening visions, but the one that stood out was the familiar one- the one she'd had for so long, the black and white photo. She'd been able to take a step into the hall before it ended. Drained by the quickness and intensity of her visions, it had been afternoon before she felt able to try to contact Van, to tell him what happened. Again, the wall stopped her. She battered herself against it again and again, before admitting defeat. She was desperate to reach him. He was probably worried about her . . . She wanted to tell him . . .

Every day and night after that was the same. Whenever she had a private moment, she would try to punch through the wall. It had gotten so that she would take time during classes to work at it. No matter what she did, or how much she tried, the wall was still there, never changing. It never grew brighter or fainter; it never changed at all. Oh, how she hated it!

She finished the remaining questions on her assignment. The alarm clock said it was close to eleven when she packed her books and notes back into her bag. She stripped off her clothes and pulled on her nightshirt, but before she climbed into bed, she glanced out the window. The temptation was too great, and she opened it, leaning out to breathe in the early spring air. The stars were brilliant and sharp. The tree outside her window was just starting to bud its leaves.

For once, she was glad that the track season was over. She had been so tired throughout the season that it had often been a chore to practice, rather than the pleasure it had once been. To keep up her performance, she'd had to tap reserves of strength she didn't know she had. More than once, she staggered home from practice to collapse on her bed until her mother called her for supper. She simply couldn't move.

If only the visions would stop, she thought as she turned off the light. If they would leave me in peace, I'd feel so much better. She crawled into bed, but did not lie down immediately. I have to try again, she thought. Then, after I talk to Van, then, I'll go to sleep. She refused to think that she wouldn't reach him. She would reach him. She had thought that so many times, but never had been able to. She kept believing, but some days it was harder than others. She closed her eyes and concentrated, following the silver line of the link to Van. I will make it! I will find him at the other end!

To her complete shock and gratitude, the wall was gone! Joyfully, she flew along the connection, almost dancing in her delight. Oh, Van, she thought. Please be awake, please . . . I need to talk to you so much!

It was late on Gaea as well, she knew. But she saw him, saw only him. The light was dim; the Earth and moon had long since risen past his window. He was a shadow within the darkness, but she knew his shape. He was sitting on his blankets, in the room he'd told her was his, his back to the window. She let herself fly towards him, straight as an arrow. As she got closer, she could see the way his broad shoulders were hunched, as if he were trying to disappear into himself. Her heart ached for him- he looked so sad.

_Van!_ she called, reaching for him, unable to contain herself. _Soon . . ._

She slammed into something hard and unyielding. _No!_ She shook her head, trying to deny it. But the wall was here, surrounding him, its faint blue glow seeming to mock her. _No, no, please let me through!_ She felt her strength ebbing, and knew she couldn't hold this much longer. _Van!_ she screamed, hoping against hope he would hear her. His only response was to bury his head in his arms. Her heart broke as she watched his shoulders begin to shake. _Oh, Van . . ._

She opened her eyes to the darkness of her room. She felt tears rolling freely down her cheeks. Her strength absolutely expended, she flopped bonelessly onto the mattress, too weary even to move onto her pillow. Silently, unable to make a sound, she cried, the memory of his pain too much to bear. She was still crying when she fell into the deep stupor of exhaustion that passed for her sleep.

Mrs. Kanzaki frowned as she passed her daughter's room the next morning. Hitomi's alarm was blatting, and had been for some time. "Hitomi?" she called, tapping on the door. "Is something wrong?" She cracked the door open.

She saw the window open slightly, the curtain fluttering in the breeze. The room was cold. Quickly, she crossed to the window and closed it, then turned to her daughter's bed.

Hitomi lay as she had fallen last night, on her side, on top of the covers. She was shivering, but it had not roused her at all. She had been unable to move, even to pull up the blankets for warmth. She was very pale, and her breathing was shallow- too shallow for someone so deeply asleep she hadn't heard the blare of the alarm clock.

Her frown deepening, her mother flicked off the alarm, then laid a hand on Hitomi's forehead, brushing away her bangs. She didn't have a fever- in fact, her skin was a bit cold to touch. Moving her hand to her daughter's shoulder, she shook her gently, saying her name. Hitomi didn't respond. Growing more concerned, Mrs. Kanzaki repeated her name, shook her harder. "Hitomi! Wake up, Hitomi!"

Hitomi groaned softly, but didn't move. Now very worried, Mrs. Kanzaki started patting her child's cheek, gently at first, then harder when it didn't wake her. "Hitomi! Wake up!" she repeated, her voice rising.

Finally, the girl's eyelids flickered and opened slightly. Her mother sighed in relief. "Hitomi, do you feel all right? Are you sick? Why wouldn't you wake up?"

"Mom?" she croaked. Opening her eyes was a chore, and talking was even harder. She wasn't sure even now that she had the strength to sit up, but she managed to pull herself upright. Rubbing one hand across her eyes, she mumbled, "What time is it?"

Standing back a pace, Mrs. Kanzaki crossed her arms. "It's almost time for you to leave for school. But you haven't answered my questions, young lady," she continued over Hitomi's shocked gasp. "You look sick. Is that why you wouldn't wake up? Couldn't you hear the alarm?"

Her mother was blocking her path, and she couldn't push her out of the way. "I'm not sick, Mom. I . . . I was just up late doing homework. I'm just tired." She said the half lies with a little guilt. She had been doing homework . . . but not all the time, and she wasn't just tired, she was utterly worn out. She ran a hand through her tousled hair. It just brushed her shoulders now.

She stared at her daughter, almost as if she didn't believe her. After a moment, she nodded and smiled softly. "If you're sure, Hitomi. You look . . ." She trailed off as she stared at her daughter.

Hitomi had always been thin, but this . . . The skin of her face was stretched tightly over her cheekbones. The only color she had was in her bright green eyes, the sandy locks of hair tumbling over her brow. She's as white as a sheet, the older woman thought, shocked. She caught sight of the girl's legs, and realized that she could probably encircle her thigh with her hands. Her nightshirt hid her torso, but Mrs. Kanzaki was sure that if she could see through it, she'd be able to count every rib.

"Mom, I have to get ready for school! I don't want to be late!" Hitomi was uneasy under her mother's scrutiny, but couldn't move away.

"Hitomi, when did you get so thin?" her mother whispered. "You don't look well at all! I think you should stay home!"

"What are you talking about, so thin? I'm fine!" She was puzzled by her mother's words, and by the hurt and angry look she received.

"No, you're not, but you're not listening to me." Mrs. Kanzaki sighed, and eyed her daughter's pale face. "All right. But I'm making an appointment for you to go to the doctor's as soon as we can get in." She left the room, her greying hair streaming behind her, before there could be any protest.

Hitomi sighed and groaned her way off the bed. Every muscle felt bruised, every limb felt like it had lead weights attached. Her head throbbed viciously, but the pain had been with her for so long, she could almost ignore it. She managed to pull on her uniform, but had to sit down before she went downstairs. She closed her eyes, a fierce pain blooming in her chest. She pressed one hand against it, remembering Van's sorrow the previous night.

_When she opened her eyes, everything was in black and white. She glanced at the window and could see the tree outside in leaf, but not moving in the calm still air. She looked around her room. Everything was stark, bare. The bed was stripped of its linens, which were folded neatly in a pile. All of her pictures, her trinkets were gone. The open closet door showed that it was empty, like the desk when she looked at it. Slowly, she stood and made her way over to the door. Last time- yesterday- she'd been able to get to the bottom of the staircase. It was like swimming through honey, but she forced her way downstairs. The weeping grew louder and louder as she descended. She turned to go into the living room- that seemed to be where it was coming from. She could see a shadow, black against the white of the walls . . ._

She caught herself before she slid out of the chair and cracked her head on the seat. She was panting as if she had run hard and long, deep ragged breaths that tore her throat. Even that slight noise caused her ears to ring. Her head was already pounding, but it seemed to increase its tempo as she forced herself to her feet. She was beyond being scared of that vision now; she only wanted to find out who was crying so it would stop. She was sure that once she found out who it was, she'd never have it again.

She grabbed her bag and padded carefully down the stairs, trying not to give herself any more pain. She didn't have time now for breakfast- just time to take the money her mother had left out so she could buy lunch at school. She stuffed the money into the outside pocket of her bag, and felt it get stuck. She opened the pocket and pulled out what amounted to several days worth of lunch money. She stared at it in amazement for a moment, thinking, I've got to give this back to Mom, I don't need so much for lunch! Her eyes started to blur, and when she blinked, they didn't really clear. She started to feel a bit light-headed. From a distance, she felt her stomach rumble softly. I . . . I'm hungry . . .

She could vaguely remember eating some supper last night. Mostly, though, she had just pushed it around with her chopsticks. She rarely ate lunch with her friends anymore- that was where all the money came from, she realized belatedly- preferring instead to go to the school library. I need to study, she would tell Yukari and her other friends, but she went to be alone, so she could try to talk to Van.

But food didn't taste good to her any more, anyway. Even her favorite foods were bland and tasteless, like what she imagined eating straw would be like. I'll eat when I get really hungry . . . like now . . . but most of the time, I don't even care. I don't have time now. I've got to get going! She pulled on her sneakers, called out to her mother, "I'll see you at supper!" and stumbled out the door.

Yukari was waiting for her at the end of the walk. "Sorry, Yukari," she gasped as she forced herself into a trot. "I overslept . . . just woke up a few minutes ago . . . let's get going!"

Yukari stared after her sadly before catching up. Hitomi had changed so much, she thought. She's not the girl I used to know anymore. For so long, she's been trying to hide how depressed she is . . . but now . . . it's like she doesn't bother. She doesn't even notice that she's got tears in her eyes most of the time. And she's so skinny! I could push her over with a finger, she's so weak all the time. I could see what a trial it was for her to compete this year in track, and still, she outdid everyone. Something's wrong . . . Something is so very wrong . . .

"Hitomi . . ." she said as they waited at the station.

"Hmmm? What is it?" Hitomi asked, leaning against the railing. Propping herself up on it is more like it, Yukari thought.

"We really need to talk." Her brown eyes were serious as she stared at her friend.

"About what?" Was she pretending to be clueless, or does she really not know what I mean?

"About you." When Hitomi turned to her, startled, she continued, "You're my best friend. I care about you, and I'm worried about you. I think . . . I'm sure that there's something wrong with you. You haven't been yourself for so long and you look like you're sick. I want to help you- but you have to tell me what's wrong!" Her voice rose toward the end, and she heard the plea in it. She bit her lip to keep from saying more, as she saw the other girl's eyes fill with tears.

Hitomi closed her eyes and leaned her back against the railing. She lifted her face to the sky and forced herself to breathe deeply, to stop the tears. "Yukari, I . . ."

"Hitomi, please! You promised you would tell me!" She was whispering, the words almost blown away in the light breeze. "You promised . . ."

She could remember. She remembered every detail about that day. "I'm not ready yet," she replied quietly, eyes still closed. "I know I promised- but I can't tell you yet . . ."

"Then when?" her friend demanded, rage evident in her tone. When Hitomi looked at her in surprise, she could see Yukari was angry, and close to tears herself. "There's something tearing you apart inside! I just want to help you."

I know, Yukari, Hitomi thought sadly. I know you only want to help me . . . but it still hurts so much.

Just then, their train arrived. Before Yukari boarded, Hitomi grabbed her arm and said, "All right. Come to the library with me at lunch. I'll . . . I'll try to tell you . . ."

Yukari gave her a brilliant smile and a brief hug before they climbed onto the car.

Later that morning, during a change of classes, Hitomi trudged to her locker for another notebook. I shouldn't have told Yukari I'd tell her, she thought wearily. She wouldn't believe the truth anyway. No, that's unfair. She would believe me, but I don't want to hear what she's going to say . . . I know it. She rummaged in her locker for some time before realizing that she'd left the notebook she wanted at home by mistake. Muttering "idiot" to herself under her breath, she slowly pulled herself upright again, and shut the locker door. Kenji was standing behind her when she turned.

"Oh!" She placed one hand to her chest, to try to still her pounding heart. "Matsuda, you scared me." She tried to duck around him, but she blocked her way.

"Kanzaki." His eyes were lost in the shadows, the sun behind him through the hallway windows. His voice was soft, but it still made her tremble with what she could only call fear. Nothing had changed about him at all. He took a step closer, forcing her back against the lockers. "I need to talk to you."

That seems to be the line of the day, she thought irrelevantly as she tried to keep from panicking. He braced his arms on either side of her, trapping her.

"Matsuda, I have to get back to class." She spoke calmly. "Please let me go."

"It's study hall," Kenji replied. "I need to talk to you now." He brought his face closer to hers, and she pushed her head against the lockers, trying to avoid his lips.

Suddenly, her exhaustion overwhelmed her. She couldn't find the strength to fight with him. She said very quietly, "Kenji." His face lit up as she spoke his given name, but then clouded again as she continued. "Kenji, I do not want to talk to you. Not now, not later, not ever. Now let me go back to class."

"Why do you keep avoiding me?" he asked plaintively. He drew back a few inches to look into her eyes. "I want to be your friend. I want to be your boyfriend, if you want the truth." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I want to be your lover. You are so captivating, so beautiful, fragile . . ." He bent his head again, trying to capture her lips.

Frantic to avoid another kiss from him, though she couldn't say why, Hitomi somehow found the will to move, half ducking under his arm, half pushing it away. "I'm sorry, I have to go to class," she said quickly, backing down the hall as he turned.

His eyes were cold and hard now, his face set grimly. He grabbed her wrist before she could flee. She could feel the bones grinding together in his grip. "Ow," she hissed, trying to twist it from his hand. "Let me go!" She dropped her textbook with a crash.

"No." His voice sent icy tremors up and down her spine. "No. You will talk with me, and you will listen to what I have to tell you." He yanked her arm, trying to pull her to him.

She stilled in his grasp. He was serious. "Matsuda." Now her voice was cold. "If you don't let me go, I'm going to scream. When the teachers come to find out why, I will tell them you tried to attack me."

"You wouldn't dare." He stared at her in disbelief.

"Try me." She could feel her vision start to go black and red around the edges from the pain, but she stood her ground.

It was a mistake to challenge him. He grinned, and tugged her toward him again. She took a deep breath and let loose a piercing wordless shriek that had doors up and down the hall opening in an instant.

But in her mind, she screamed, _Van, help me!_ She screamed it along the link with him, a white-hot arrow of all her pain and fear and longing. She knew it would probably hurt him- if the wall didn't stop it. She hoped he could forgive her.

Her knees buckled and she fell as Kenji finally released her hand. She heard teachers and students shouting in the hall, but only from a great distance.

Her cry struck its mark. She felt it, felt him shudder along their bond. Even as her eyes rolled back in her head, she smiled as she sensed him reaching for her. The last thing she knew before the darkness claimed her was his beloved voice, calling for her. "Hitomi? Hitomi!"  
_Van . . ._

Then there was nothing more.

Author's note: I think that's a good place to end it, don't you? Please review!


	7. Chapter Seven

Author's Note: I would very much like to say thank you to all who have reviewed thus far! Your comments are _always_ appreciated, and I enjoy knowing what people think of my work, whether good or bad. Please continue to review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own the twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. In this chapter, I own Tev, Sari, Kenet Tesk, Robero Jor, Tavin Gare and Lady Avengine. Hmm, I think that's everyone.

Re-Visions 

Chapter 7

Damn him! Van thought, his temper flaring hot. But he forced himself to show nothing of his anger.

He kicked at the smoldering remains of what had once been a home. The bastard was growing bolder. This was the third fire this sevenday. With the chill of winter still in the air . . . He shivered and pulled the cloak more closely around himself. The smoke was acrid, and it burned his nose and throat.

In truth, the firebug had plagued them almost since they returned to Fanelia. Off and on, starting late that first summer, he'd burnt down single houses and businesses, but at first, no one suspected arson. They all looked like accidents, and there had always been a cookfire nearby, so drifting sparks had been blamed.

Then fires had been started against the walls of houses nearly completed. Only one at a time, and they never spread to neighboring homes. When winter had come, they stopped, and everyone believed the "bad luck" fires were at an end. A few days after the thaw, though, they started up again, the same way.

Even though some homes had been destroyed, work continued on the city. Those homes and businesses were always rebuilt, as soon as could be. All through the summers, the firebug had played his game, and deep into the autumn. As soon as the snows fell, however, he disappeared.

Now, he was back again. Van clenched his fists inside the cloak, one hand gripping his sword, still staring at the embers.

Now, he was a murderer.

The house had been nearly finished, true. But the young family had moved back in only yesterday, eager to have their own roof again. A husband and wife, and their four year old daughter. Lara was Tev's daughter, blond haired and blue eyed, cheerful as her father, and obviously deeply in love with Pol. When Van had started working on Tev's crew, he'd met her once or twice. She treated him with no special deference- in fact, she treated him just as she treated her younger brothers. He'd worked with Pol- a good-natured man full of promise as a carpenter. Their daughter Channa was timid around him at first, but soon smiled shyly when she saw him.

Now, Lara and her daughter were dead. Pol himself was burned so badly that Sari, the healer Van had just contracted from the Healer's Guild to replace old Telemon, who had died last autumn, did not think he'd survive. He hadn't awoken since the rescue team had pulled him from the beneath the fallen timbers. Van hoped he would not. It would be kinder that way. He shuddered at the thought of Pol's agony.

Finally, he turned away from the smoking remains. Tev was next to him, staring with empty eyes. His face and beard were blackened with smoke, and his big hands looked red and blistered. He'd been part of the rescue team, and had tried to save his granddaughter. She'd died in his arms. Van laid a hand on the older man's arm. "I'm sorry, Tev," he whispered. The other man just nodded, unable to tear his eyes from the charred ruin. Van swallowed, and continued, "When we find him, he'll pay for this, I promise."

His voice flat, Tev replied, "You need not promise, my lord. It won't bring them back." His dull eyes closed. "Just make him stop . . ." Tears left trails down his soot-stained face.

Van squeezed his arm in sympathy, and quickly walked away. He climbed back up to the still ruined castle, and his thoughts were black. He could feel the fatigue urging him to go to sleep. The morning was in its early stages yet, the sun just peeking up over the mountains. But he knew he could not sleep. Not now. He rubbed a hand over his face and winced. He looked at his palms, and saw they were red and starting to blister, just like Tev's. He sighed.

He had woken about the middle of the night, from a nightmare about Hitomi. He'd watched helplessly as she was torn away from him screaming. He was unable to reach her. Before he'd jerked awake, he'd heard the voice, that somehow familiar voice, saying, "Not anymore . . . ever again . . ." He'd had the same nightmare often, since that horrible night . . .

When he awoke, he was shivering, having kicked away his extra blankets and the cloak. He'd fallen asleep in his old room, needing solitude. It was when he stood to look out the window that he'd seen the blaze, and sounded the alert in the castle. He'd helped pull Pol from the wreckage, and then Lara, burnt beyond recognition.

I imagine my face is as black as Tev's, too, he thought as he entered the castle. Word had traveled swiftly, and the people who still dwelt there were subdued. They thought now that there was someone bent on burning the city down again- and he could not reassure them to the contrary. Right now, it seemed that this firebug might do just that.

He said nothing to anyone, and indeed, people were wary of his temper. His deep scowl and purposeful walk kept anyone from bothering him as he made his way to the castle infirmary. He shortened his stride as he drew near, and entered Sari's domain quietly. Absently, he noticed that someone- likely Sari herself- had crudely hung a door in the frame.

Sari was not young. When Van had signed the contract with her, she let him know that she'd been practicing medicine for many years, more than he'd been alive, were her exact words. She was a cat person, but a different breed than Merle, or the two that had served Folken. Sari was all golden, except for the streaks of grey in her long blond mane. The fur on her face was a lighter yellow and her eyes were the color of amber. They missed nothing. Her tail had a dark golden tuft at the end. With her years came great dignity and serenity. Merle had been slightly jealous at first, but was now firm friends with the healer, for which Van sighed in relief.

In fact, Merle was with Sari now, watching sadly as the older cat woman gently touched Pol's neck for a pulse. When she shook her head, Merle's eyes filled with tears. Van closed his eyes, but the rustle of the sheet told him that Sari pulled it up to cover Pol's ruined body. He slumped against the wall and sighed again.

"Lord Van!" Merle had heard him. She walked over to him, looking at him critically. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, I just came to see how Pol . . ."

"It was kinder thus, Your Majesty." Sari's voice was low, reassuring, but sad now. She plunged her hands into a basin and washed them, before drying them on a clean towel. "He never awoke, he was not aware of any pain, and he knew nothing of what happened to his wife and child." Hanging the towel on a hook, she finished, "If there is such a thing as life after death, surely he is with them now." She stared at the sheet-draped body for a second, then let out a deep breath. "That doesn't mean I like it, though."

All three were silent for a long moment. Then Merle shook her head and said, "Lord Van, you're a mess. And you stink!" She wrinkled her nose at the acrid odor of smoke that wafted about him. "Go wash yourself and change." She started to push him out of the infirmary.

"But . . ."

"Just do it! You're going to . . . make me . . . Aa-choo!" After her sneeze, her nose kept twitching, as if it was about to repeat. She shoved him out and closed the door in his surprised face.

"Merle." Sari's voice held disapproval.

Merle felt her face grow hot beneath her fur. "I know! But a lot of smoke always makes me sneeze! I can't help it, and Lord Van knows it."

"Lord Van is under a great deal of stress. You do not need to add to it."

Merle shuffled her feet, looking anywhere but at Sari. "I know."

Sari studied the cat girl closely. She looked about 16, on the verge of blossoming into womanhood. Even in the chill air, she wore a sleeveless tunic dress that reached to her knees. Her tail snaked out from beneath the hem. Her pink hair curled over her shoulders. She was very appealing and young, but independent and strong-minded. Sari knew this. "Merle, why do you act like that around Lord Van?"

Without thinking, Merle responded with the truth. "Because it helps him to not think about her." Then her eyes grew wide and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Damn it! she thought. I've got to learn not to speak first and think after!

Curious, Sari inquired, "Not think about her? Who?"

Still covering her mouth, Merle shook her head. "I . . . I've got to go see if the goodwives need my help today! Excuse me!" She pulled open the door and dashed out of the room, still berating herself.

Van returned to the infirmary some time later, and saw that Pol's body had been taken away. He saw Sari seated at her worktable, referring to a text and grinding something with her mortar and pestle. He cleared his throat, not wanting to scare her. She held up one hand. "I'll be with you directly, Sire. I just need to finish this recipe for burn salve."

He looked around. She had a pair of chairs, and her table. There were narrow cots against the walls, and a door in one wall led to the healer's personal room. This was the only room in the whole castle that yet had furniture. Even he and his councilors still sat on empty crates and boxes when they met. He sank into the other chair.

It was only a few minutes later when Sari stood from her table and drew her chair back to face him. "What can I help you with, Your Majesty?" she asked pleasantly.

Van held out his reddened hands. "Actually, Sari, I think I'll need some of your burn salve."

She took his hands and examined them. "Hmmm, so you will. The new one needs to set, but I've a little left of the last batch." She selected a jar off her worktable, and opened it, sniffing. "I hope you don't mind the scent of roses, Sire, but the rose water helps in healing." She brought it back to him, and gently spread a dollop over his burns. He stiffened, thinking it would sting, but slowly relaxed again when it didn't. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she studied him. She had seen him only rarely since entering his service late the past autumn. He was tall, perhaps a bit over six feet, she guessed. His hair was black, and his forelock, though slightly damp, still hung into his eyes. He had them closed now, and she could see dark circles beneath them. Frowning slightly, she looked closer and saw how haggard his handsome features were, the fatigue in every muscle of his body. His pallor was more than the winter's lack of sun. His shoulders, though not terribly broad, were still manly, but she could see the terrible weight they bore by the way they slumped. From his shoulders, his body tapered slightly into slim hips, and long legs, sprawled as he sat.

Sari said nothing as she rubbed the balm into his hands, and he was grateful. I don't want to have to think. I am so weary . . . I miss her so much . . . Hitomi . . . Even her name brought him pain.

"Are you burned anywhere else, Sire?" Her voice was soft, but it still brought him back to reality.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, and stared at her, uncomprehending, then shook his head. "No, I don't think so." He made as if to stand, but she shook her head and motioned him to stay seated. Puzzled, he sat back.

"My lord, you look tired. Are you sleeping well?" She turned back to her worktable to replace the jar.

Defensively, he asked, "What makes you say that?"

She snorted quietly. "Sire, one doesn't need to be a doctor to see the deep circles under your eyes. You are pale, and, from what I hear, inclined to be a bit short-tempered. Before you claim it is only from last night, I will remind you that I am a doctor, and I can tell when a patient has had one sleepless night- or many. So, what has been causing your wakefulness?"

Her back was still to him, but her sharp ears heard him get up and take a step toward the door. "I am the king of this country," he said over his shoulder. "Isn't that enough reason?"

She allowed him to reach the door before she spoke again. "Sire, I can't cure you if I don't know your symptoms."

He stopped in the doorway. So softly that she almost couldn't hear, he replied, "I don't want to be cured." When she turned, he was gone.

Sari sighed, and looked down at her cluttered worktable. Well, I knew he was stubborn, she thought. Maybe Merle will tell me more. He's too young to look like that.

Van took a deep breath in relief when he escaped the infirmary. Sari was too perceptive by half, he thought darkly. But that's what makes her a good doctor. After all, your hands don't hurt anymore, do they?

Suddenly, he shook his head. Gods above, I must be tired, he thought. I'm having a conversation with myself . . .

Except for the fire, the council chamber had been left undamaged. The banners and crests that had hung there, the great table and his father's throne were all gone. But, being on the first floor, the walls were solid. Earlier this year, with work on the city stalled, but nearing completion, Van had started work on the castle. It was not actual reconstruction work, being winter still, but rather a survey of the extent of the damage, and an accurate estimate of what needed to be redone. The architect and the pipeman he'd brought with him from Asturia had been crawling through he castle for the remainder of the winter, even going up into the unstable towers. Today was the day he'd requested their final report. He knew, though, that other matters took precedence.

When he entered the council chamber, he saw he was the last to arrive. The captain of the samurai was pacing, but then, Kenet Tesk never had been able to keep still. He was perhaps 12 years older than Van, tall and broad-shouldered with long, long limbs. His black hair was long, but he kept it tied back into a tail. His eyes were a very dark brown, his face a deep tan, with lines from brooding. At best, his temper was uncertain. He was the only one standing; Van's three surviving councilors were seated on their crates.

Robero Jor was an older man who had been selected by Van's father to be on his council. He was slightly stooped in the shoulders. His hair was blond, like Allen's, but he kept it cropped close to his head. It was starting to grey. His eyes were blue and somewhat watery and weak, and he was not very tall. He had been in charge of copying decrees and laws, and the other legalities of running a kingdom. He was soft-spoken, but intelligent. When he offered his opinion, others listened carefully.

The man seated next to him was tall and dark. His hair was a very deep brown, as were his eyes and beard. He wore his hair long, and kept the beard trimmed fairly short. His age was hard to determine, but he, too, had been on Van's father's council. Tavin Gare was slow to anger, but once he did, he was implacable, and just as slow to forgive. He was the most knowledgeable on matters of state between Fanelia and other countries.

The eldest was Lady Avengine, the last surviving member of an old cadet branch of the royal family. That branch had long ago take up commerce, and traded with other countries in the king's name almost exclusively. Lady Avengine had never married, and had taken over the family's business when her older brother had died. Since then, one by one, her other brothers had died, and the younger generation looked to her for guidance. Many of them had been lost in the crash of an airship many years ago, which had left Avengine with a crippled leg. The remaining few had perished in the razing of Fanelia. Lady Avengine herself had been in Asturia at the time. She was withered by her years, small and thin. Her face was lined and stern, but, beneath it all, she was kind. She wore her slivery hair in a bun at the back of her head. Her eyes were nearly lost in the folds of her wrinkles, but they were still sharp, a crisp grey in color. She rested both hands on her cane. She was the first to notice Van when he entered. Her eyes twinkled at him. Distant as it was, they were each other's last remaining relative.

As he settled on his crate, Van noticed his sketches of the castle on the floor. Before anyone could speak, he said quietly, "I know that we were to receive a report on the damages to the castle, but I believe that we have a more pressing matter on our hands. The person who has been setting fires has now raised himself from menace to murderer." The other four nodded. They knew.

The remainder of the morning and most of the afternoon was spend discussing how many more guards could be spared to patrol the streets, and other ways in which to capture the firebug. It was sometime after the midday meal that talk turned toward that state of the castle. That occupied them until dark fell.

Van was tired when he stumbled to his room after supper. He found that Merle had been there. His smoky cloak had been washed and folded neatly on his blankets. Those, too, had been laundered and folded. He remade his pallet on the floor. It was still almost too cold to be sleeping here, but he could not sleep downstairs. I don't want to, anyway, he thought. I just want to be alone . . .

He'd needed to be alone for most of the past year, ever since she'd been pulled away from him. Merle had told him that Hitomi had moved on with her life, but he knew better. Merle hadn't heard the way she called for him, the fright in her voice. She hadn't wanted him to leave, but he couldn't get to her. He sat on the blankets, his back to the window, and pulled the pendant from his shirt. He was able to see where she was, the Mystic Moon large in the sky, but not able to reach her . . . he almost couldn't bear to look at the pendant, but she had given it to him. As it had been every night, it was a pink crystal with no inner light of its own. It sparkled in the moonlight, but that was all.

Wrapping his fingers around it, Van closed his eyes and tried to reach her. She'd shown him the link, and he could find it easily enough, but he couldn't follow it. That was why she had to call him with her thoughts, to reel him in when he made the effort to talk to her. But now, he couldn't even make it that far. He thought he felt another presence, but he'd wished for it, hoped for her touch so many times, he didn't trust his perceptions anymore. He released the pendant, and rested his head on his arms, folding them on his upraised knees, staring at nothing.

Hitomi . . . If only I'd had the courage to tell you that I love you . . . His grief overwhelmed him, grief and guilt at all the wasted opportunities. Tears started coursing down his cheeks, his silent sobs making his body tremble. After a moment, he wiped at his face, and lay down. Stop it, he told himself, but the tears trickled down into his hair, dampening the blanket folded under his head.

Before he finally drifted off to sleep, he was vaguely aware of a blue glow over his head. Drowsily, he dismissed it as the light from the Mystic Moon.

_Help me, my King . . . I need your help . . ._

For the first time in many long nights, Van didn't have the same old nightmare. Instead, he was drifting weightlessly in a sea of blue, while a voice- oh, so familiar, and yet not, at the same time- called softly to him. The same words reached his ears, over and over. Somehow, he could not respond.

He awoke late the next morning. The sun was already high in the sky when he opened his eyes. He groaned and covered his eyes with one arm. Oh, gods, what am I late for now? he wondered sourly. He'd sat up and was pulling on his boots when he realized that, in truth, all he had missed was breakfast. Work would not start in the city until the next sevenday, and there were no meetings at all today. No one had woken him, so there had been no further fires, but it also mean the firebug had not been caught.

He stood, and looked out at the brilliant blue of the sky. Far off, dull grey clouds promised a rain shower by evening.

Suddenly, a fierce pain blinded him. It felt as though someone had taken a red-hot poker and pierced his very skull. Every part of his being was filled with agony, with . . . fear? . . . longing? Then he heard her voice. _Van, help me!_

"Hitomi?" He felt her receding down the link, and tried to follow her. "Hitomi!" Desperate, he forced himself on. He had to reach her!

He saw her. She was falling. She hit hard, and lay on the floor, not moving. He could see people milling about her, but abruptly, they were all drifting away, she was drifting away. "No! Hitomi!"

His head was throbbing from her cry when he opened his eyes. "No!" he whispered, sinking to his knees and resting his head against the cold stones of the wall. "What happened? Why couldn't I reach you?"

Suddenly, he saw that faint blue glow again, and realized there was someone next to him. When he turned his head, he saw a girl, clothed in a strange, narrow blue gown, with a wide belt tied beneath her breasts. Her long light brown hair was done in two braids, hanging over her shoulders. Gracefully, she knelt next to him, and he saw her solemn face. At first, he thought it was Hitomi, but there was something different . . . "Who are you?" he asked in confusion. "You look like Hitomi, but . . ."

The girl didn't smile, didn't move at all, but Van could hear her. _No, I'm not Hitomi. She is my granddaughter. King of Fanelia, I need your help. Hitomi needs your help. Will you aid us?_

"Of course," he breathed. He could still see her falling, motionless on the floor. "Anything I can do for her, I will!" He knew something was wrong with her, with his Hitomi, but he had no idea what. "What . . ." he swallowed painfully. "What is wrong?"

The girl's green eyes stared at him sadly. _She is dying_.

Author's note: Hmm, another great place to end a chapter! (grin) Please review!


	8. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own the twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. (In this chapter, no one that I own appears, though, unless you count Kenji . . .)

Re-Visions 

Chapter 8

"Dying?" Van whispered, feeling the blood drain from his face. Had he not already been kneeling, he would have fallen to his knees as his strength fled him. He stared at the girl in disbelief. "Hitomi is dying?" No, it couldn't be . . .

_Yes. She is dying. But do not despair, because with your help, she might yet recover._

Hope flared within him at her words, but he pushed it aside, not wanting to have it dashed. He needed to know . . . "How can she be . . . dying?" He could hardly bring himself to say the word.

He heard the girl sigh. _Earth . . . the Mystic Moon . . . is such a very different place than Gaea. Ripples travel further here than there . . ._

He was puzzled at her words. "But what does that . . ."

_Not now. Just listen._ She cupped her hands together. _Inside of Hitomi's mind is a receptacle for her powers, like a cup._ He blinked, and there was a small cup cradled in her hands. _This is not what it's really like,_ she told him, her voice apologetic._ This is just to show you. See- this cup is very small._ She held it up, and indeed, it was, just about the size of an eggcup, filled with a shimmering blue fluid. _Inside the cup, this blue glow is her power. This is the measure of her power when she was a child. It was quiescent within her. She could not use it intentionally, and it never really manifested. She never tapped it consciously when she did her tarot readings, but its presence is the reason why they were always so accurate. Just before Hitomi entered high school, she . . . began to develop as a woman. When that happened, her capacity . . . her powers . . . grew as well._ The cup grew a bit bigger in the girl's hands, perhaps now the size of a large teacup, still full. _Then she had her first vision._ Without warning, without any movement from the girl, half the liquid in the cup spilled over the rim. Van blinked. What just happened?

_When you and she were transported to Gaea, the ambience here started to develop her powers more . . ._

"The ambience? What do you mean?"

_King, I am dead. Yet I am here with you._ Her tone in his mind was so wry he could almost imagine her smile, but her grave expression never changed. _Your mother, Balgus- you saw them in the Mystic Valley, did you not? The dead can walk again here- if only for brief periods _in extremis_. This is a world wrought by magic and wishes. That's the ambience, and it worked on Hitomi, increasing her power and making her have visions._ The cup expanded in her hands to a small bowl, a serving bowl, a mixing bowl, overwhelming her hands. _With each vision she had, the more able she was to have them, and more likely. This is also when she learned to tap the power within her- still unconsciously at first, and only in great need. She kept hearing you in her mind during the battle for Rampant, and, shocked by the violence in her name, for her sake, she called the tower of light to pull away the Fate-Changed boy._ Again, nothing seemed to happen, but some of the liquid slipped out of the bowl in her hands, onto her dress, leaving no sign . . .

_Then, she called it again to take her back to Earth. You brought her back here._ Though Van was staring at her hands, he could detect no movement, and the blue glow spilled over anyway. It was less than half full, but as he watched, it started to swirl and the level slowly rose. _She took your brother to the Emperor's palace._ Abruptly the level dropped again, and then it was nearly emptied as the girl spoke her next words. _She powered the Atlantis Machine, and the Zone of Absolute Fortune. She even managed to somehow speak to you as you fought the knight._ Van could only see a glimmer of blue at the very bottom of the bowl, a few drops clinging to the sides. Then, as before, it started to slowly rise, like a whirlpool in reverse. Before it was full, though, it just stopped, becoming still and placid. _Then, she returned to Earth again._

Van looked sharply at the girl's solemn face. "Why isn't it filling? She's not using her powers on . . . Earth . . ." He felt his features go slack with surprise.

The girl nodded. _But she is using her powers. As fast as this bowl refilled on Gaea . . . it can't fill that fast on Earth. The ambience there is different. Before she came here, it was all right; she never used her abilities, so it didn't need to refill. But a torrent here is a drop there._ As she spoke, ripples spread slowly over the surface of the liquid, like a stone had been thrown in, only from underneath. _So slow . . ._ she murmured sadly, looking at the basin in her hands. She closed her eyes. _Then she rediscovered the link with you . . ._

Slowly, a little at a time, the glowing blue liquid started slipping over the rim, never refilling. As he watched, stunned, it drained until there were only drops left at the bottom. _When she used the link to talk to you, it caused a backlash. Always afterwards, she would have visions. The visions themselves used up her power almost as much as talking to you. When finally her receptacle was empty, I decided that I needed to intervene._ Her eyes were still closed.

"You! It was your voice I heard . . ." Van felt anger burn away his amazement. "You tore her away from me!"

_Yes._ She opened her eyes, and they sparkled with tears. _I was wrong. I thought . . . if she could not reach you, eventually, she would stop, and she would recover. The visions caused her pain, because of the dearth of her power. If she could let it fill again, the pain would go away. But she would not stop. Even though I blocked her way to you, she kept trying to reach you. A drop of power a day- and she would use it. But a drop is not enough to reach Gaea. Because she demanded the power, her body gave of itself- her physical strength, her endurance, her bones and muscles._ The bowl was now coated with a patina of red, like fresh blood, but still empty. _Despair took her, stealthily creeping into her mind. Without even thinking about it, she has decided life . . . is not worth living. Her mind is convinced that she should die._ Seeing the shock in his face, she said, _No, she is not actively seeking suicide. But though her body cries out for food, she will not eat. Her mind tells her that the food is tasteless, and she is unable to choke it down._

Van closed his eyes, recalling the raw pain in her call to him. Oh, Hitomi, he thought, his hands clenching and unclenching. If I had only known . . . One hand crept up to grasp the pendant. His eyes flew open, staring at her, as the idea struck him. "But . . . if she comes back . . ." Hope filled him. She could stay!

_She can fully recover._ The girl nodded. _That is why I need your help. I need you to activate the light, so you can go get her. There is no way she could activate it herself. It would surely kill her, weakened as she is._

"I . . . I don't know how." He stared at the floor, unable to look at her. It would be his fault if she died . . .

_I will help you_. He felt a tingle on his hand, and saw she had reached out, touching him. The bowl was gone.

Gazing at her, so like Hitomi, he let himself smile for the first time in a long time. That smile crumbled, however, when he was struck by a horrible realization, one that reduced all his dreams to dust, reduced him to desolation. "What's the condition?" he asked in a low voice.

She blinked at him, otherwise unmoving and silent.

"You are giving me my heart's desire," he continued tonelessly, trying to hold back the hope, the anguish. "This is what I have wanted for so long . . . to have you give it to me . . . all I can think is there must be a condition to it." He bit his lip as she continued to stare at him.

_Condition?_ She laughed in his mind, her expression unchanged. _Clever. Yes. There is one condition._ She took her hand away.

"What is it?" he whispered, closing his eyes. Please, don't let it be . . .

_It will become evident when the time is right._

His heart sank. I don't think I can let her go again, he thought desperately.

_In the meantime, my King . . ._ He forced the tears away, forced himself to look at her. _She will need to know that you care. You will eventually need to tell her what I have told you about her powers. Wait until she is strong enough to bear it._ Her green eyes took on a faraway look. _I must go to her now. I will come back later. Wait for me outside, somewhere where you will not be disturbed. I will find you at moonrise._ Before he could form another question, she was gone. A faint after image glowed in his eyes, before that, too, faded, and he was alone again. Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet, noticing the ache in his knees from kneeling so long.

The hope warred with fear within him. I won't be able to let you go again, he thought. Surely . . . surely this time it will kill me . . . But I will save you, Hitomi. His mahogany eyes were filled with determination. I swear it.

***

The first thing Hitomi saw when she opened her eyes was the school infirmary, the ceiling drifting in and out of focus. The second thing was Kenji.

_Somehow, she knew it was a vision. There was no background behind him, only darkness. Reddish light shone on him from somewhere. He was looking down. He wasn't alone. There was a figure kneeling, huddled at his feet. He bent to lift that person up. It was a woman, a long spill of blond hair obscuring her face. Hitomi could see her womanly curves, outlined by the sheath dress she wore. He raised her up . . . then slapped her, hard, no expression on his face at all. Slowly, the woman spun around and fell to her knees again, one hand pressed to her cheek. She was shaking, sobbing, Hitomi realized. She knew she could do nothing- the vision played out for her to watch, nothing more. The woman stopped crying, and looked up, hate flashing in her eyes. No! Hitomi thought, shocked. The woman looked like her._

Gasping, she pulled herself out of it, and lay staring at nothing. She concentrated on breathing deeply. I know now why I never liked him, she thought blankly. I wonder- will that come to pass? Will it be some other woman? But her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of a phone from the next room.

"Mrs. Kanzaki? Thank goodness, I have been trying to reach you. It's about Hitomi . . . yes. She collapsed today at school . . . It appears there was some trouble with a boy . . .No, she's not injured . . . No, I'm concerned that . . . she fainted some time ago, and hasn't come around yet . . . the doctor? Yes, I think that's a good idea . . . I think she may be anorexic . . . yes, that's it . . . she's too thin for her own good . . . the only other option I can think of is, well . . . you won't want to hear it, but drugs of some . . . No, there's been no problem with that here, but there are so many places . . . Please calm down. No, I quite understand . . . I'll keep her here . . . Goodbye."

Hitomi heard the nurse hang up. She closed her eyes as the nurse came in to check on her. She heard the woman sigh as she took her pulse. "Girls these days . . . poor thing." The tap-tap of her heels receded as she left. The door opened and closed, briefly letting her hear the voices in the hall.

She tried to sit up, but her muscles would not obey. For some reason, she wasn't bothered by it. Why? What had happened? She remembered Kenji forcing her against the lockers . . . she remembered crying out . . .

Van! Van had responded to her cry! That was why nothing bothered her. Nothing in the world could be bad, as long as she had that happiness. The link worked again. Smiling slightly, she found the link, and tried to follow it to him again. Oh, how she longed to talk to him once more . . .

But she couldn't make it work. There was a massive weight pounding the inside of her skull. Every single one of her muscles screamed in agony. Worst of all, there was a blue haze clouding the link, making it hard to find, hard to follow. No, she cried silently. Go away! Let me talk to him, please!

_Hitomi. Stop this now._

What? There was another voice in her head, one that seemed familiar, a dimly recalled memory from long ago . . . She tried to close it out, frantic to ride the link to Van.

_Hitomi. Stop it now. You're hurting yourself._ A blurry image formed.

. . . Grandmother? Disbelief flooded her.

The image resolved itself into her grandmother as she had appeared on Gaea, in the Mystic Valley. _Listen to me now. Trust me. Have your mother take you home. Tonight, after dark, after your parents are asleep, go out to the tree and wait. Do not try to follow your link to the king. Do not try to contact him. I mean it! Don't question me, _she warned, knowing Hitomi was about to do so. _Just do as I ask. Everything will be explained, I promise._ Her green eyes smiled at her granddaughter. _It will be all right, child. Sleep now._

Without a protest, Hitomi did so. Grandmother had never lied to her.

***

He could see the form, perfect in his mind. He could see the movements he needed to make, the sequence leading up to it. When he got it right, he could feel the sweet singing of the strain in his muscles. That's how he knew, he'd been told. Every muscle sang out, if it was right. He took a deep breath and centered himself, hands loosely gripping the sword. He brought himself to the first position, sword at the level of his eyes. Second position- turn the body slightly, present a narrower target for your enemy.

_ . . . falling . . ._

He blinked, trying to regain his concentration. Third position . . . third . . .

_ . . . dying . . ._

"No!" Van let the blade fall from the position, bracing the tip on the ground. She would not die!

Avoiding everyone had not been easy. The way the hope and the agony were tearing him apart, he knew he could talk to no one, he could be around no one. Finally, he hiked his way up to Escaflowne's glade. No one would bother him there. He'd spent the day trying to focus himself, trying to practice, as he had not in many days. But thoughts of Hitomi kept interrupting, and he hadn't made it past the third position in hours. He wiped the sweat from his brow, rapidly cooling in the chill air.

He stepped to the edge, staring down at the nearly completed sprawl of his city. The sun was sinking in the west. Walking back to where he'd left his cloak, he pulled it on and sat down on the cold grass to wait, trying to feel nothing.

***

It had taken all of her powers of persuasion, but Hitomi had managed to convince her mother not to take her to the hospital. Her mother was upset about the whole matter, and more than once on the ride said, "I knew you should have stayed home today!"

"Yes, Mom," was all Hitomi would say. When the reached the house, Hitomi managed to drag her weary body inside. She had started up the stairs when her mother called, "Where are you going?" She turned and saw her mother glaring at her from the foot of the stairs. "You need to eat."

Closing her eyes, forcing herself not to sway, she turned away and stood with her back to her mother. "I'm going to go to sleep, Mom. I'm tired. I'm not hungry." That last was probably a lie, but the way her stomach was cramping, she didn't think she could keep anything down anyway.

Worry clouded Mrs. Kanzaki's features. "Hitomi, you're so thin . . . the nurse at school said you may be anorexic . . ."

A ghost of a smile touched Hitomi's lips, but her mother couldn't see it. "No, Mom, I'm not. Nor am I addicted to drugs. I'm just tired. You don't need to wake me for supper." She trudged up the stairs and closed her door, leaving her mother staring after her helplessly.

She sat on her bed, her muscles too exhausted to even let her undress. She stared sightlessly across her room. It was real . . . wasn't it? she wondered.

The second time she'd awoken in the nurse's office, all she could remember really happening was Kenji grabbing her and her scream, desperate to get away from him. Dreamlike, the vision of Kenji and the blond woman flashed in her head, and . . . her grandmother's voice? She sighed and fell back on the bed, eyes drifting shut again.

Yukari, she remembered suddenly. I promised Yukari I'd tell her . . . She rolled onto her side, thinking, I'll write her a note.

But instead, she fell into a deep sleep again. The afternoon crept by. A shimmer of blue appeared in the corner by her desk as night drew its velvety cloak over the sky.

_Hitomi._ The voice was speaking directly into her dream. _Hitomi, wake now._

She blinked once, twice, and was awake. Her brow furrowed at the familiarity of the voice. "Grandmother?"

_Yes, child. Now, go out to the tree, and wait there. It's a bit cold out, you'll want to change your clothes._ The glimmer faded away.

Obeying automatically, because she couldn't find the will to do otherwise, she made her way to her closet, stripping off her uniform as she did. Blazer, tie, shirt, skirt, all fell carelessly to the floor. She pulled on an old pair of jeans, which rested dangerously low on her hips. Frowning slightly, she looked for a belt, and threaded it through the loops. Next was her favorite shirt, and a thick sweatshirt. Then she felt the world start to tilt and spin, and collapsed onto her desk chair.

What's going on? she wondered distantly, as if she were outside herself. She blinked, _and saw the room painted in black and white. Daylight poured in the window, the tree a shadow as dark as night. Her room was empty. She felt herself drawn to the door, and slowly stood and moved toward it. She slipped out the door and down the stairs. The living room . . . She turned and saw a shadow flit across the white wall before her. It wasn't hers. It was too odd a shape, and it was carrying something . . . She took a step toward the living room. The shadows clustered in the open doorway, dark contrast to the brightness inside. "Why?" she heard a voice say . . . it sounded like_

When she opened her eyes, she was lying on the floor next to her desk, shivering. The sky was dark, and through the window she could see stars twinkling. Her limbs cried out in protest as she tried to sit up. She moaned softly as her head started to pound, but managed to get upright. Leaning heavily on the chair, she climbed to her feet. Panting, she stood there a moment, swaying. Outside, she thought. Grandmother said to go to the tree . . . The direction she had been given was a beacon to her, a grail.

The house was silent as she padded to her door. She opened it cautiously, and left it ajar. Carefully, she made her way down the stairs, suddenly conscious of the terrible weakness of her body. At the foot of the stairs, she picked up her sneakers, and almost fell over when the vertigo hit her. Clutching her shoes to her, she fought the darkness encroaching in her head. After a moment, it retreated, but flickered at the edges of her vision. Moonlight was streaming through the kitchen windows as she stumbled to the back door. Outside . . . She remembered to put on her shoes before opening the door.

The chill of the night was sharp, even through the heavy sweatshirt. She fumbled in her pocket for her house keys, to unlock the door and retrieve a coat, but her numb fingers dropped them into the shadows next to the stoop. Recalling what happened when she bent for her sneakers, she decided to just leave them. I'll get them later . . . Rubbing her arms for warmth, she shuffled through the dew-damp grass to the spreading tree. All right, Grandmother, I'm here . . . She tripped on a root, and caught herself against the trunk, the bark rough beneath her hands, her cheek. Unable to stand anymore, she sank to her knees, still leaning against the tree. Moonlight could not penetrate the thick leaves in summer, but they were small and few now. If she looked up, she could see the stars.

Grandmother? Grandmother, I'm here . . . The cold invaded her body swiftly, now that she had stopped moving. Her teeth began to chatter, startlingly loud in the still of the night. She huddled down into herself, seeking some non-existent warmth. For many long moments, nothing happened. Her grandmother did not appear as she had expected.

Maybe it was a dream, Hitomi thought sluggishly, closing her eyes. Or a hallucination . . . She felt something pointed and hard digging into her knee, could feel the texture of the bark. I know this is real . . . Grandmother . . . I'm so tired . . .

Suddenly, there was a great flash of light, blindingly bright, right next to her. She slitted her eyes, and peered over, only half interested. Within the light, a figure lightly touched down to earth, outlined distinctly in the brilliant column of white. Then it was gone, and all that was left was the violet after image against her retina. She closed her eyes again, and started to surrender to the darkness surrounding her.

"Hitomi?" Dimly, she heard a movement, and a voice, an achingly familiar voice, whispered her name. "Hitomi!" It demanded a response, and she forced her eyes open again.

Oh- this had to be a dream, there was no way this could be real, not when she'd dreamt of this so many times . . . It was he, Van, kneeling before her, one hand reaching out to her, as if to caress her cheek, but unsure. Half in shadow, half brightly lit by the moonlight, she could see the strong line of his jaw, his high cheekbones, the beautiful mahogany of his eyes. Her whole body trembled as she stared at him.

No, this was real, he was here. All that she had cried for, had begged for- he was here, close enough to touch. Weakly, she pushed herself away from the tree and wrapped her arms around his neck. Resting her head in the curve of his shoulder, she breathed in his warmth, his scent, fresh as a springtime field. "Oh, you're here, you're really here," she murmured almost soundlessly against his shirt. The tears didn't start until he embraced her. She could feel his arms, hard and strong against her back, could feel them shaking as he fought the urge to crush her against him. She knew he wanted to, he was there in her mind again, after having been gone so long, and she smiled through her tears. This time, when the darkness threatened, she fell into it. Van is here now, Van will save me . . .

She was so fragile looking, Van almost didn't dare touch her. He was surprised when she hugged him, almost unbelieving. He let his arms enfold her, and closed his eyes in distress when he realized he could feel her bones through her clothing. He held her gently, feeling that any more strength would break her. He nearly panicked when she slumped against him, but her shallow breath tickled his ear, and when he pulled her away to look at her, she was smiling faintly. Gingerly, he scooped her up, but his control nearly broke then. Oh, gods, she weighs so little- there's nothing to her at all. He stood, and concentrated as the other girl had taught him, touching a far-away pool of power- his own, she'd said, but difficult to tap. He felt the pendant grow warm, then hot beneath his shirt, and then the light came and lifted him up. He cradled her against him, and whispered into her hair, "Stay with me. Stay with me, this time . . ."

When he landed again, he looked around, confused. He expected to see Escaflowne outlined by moonlight, but there was nothing. When he turned, he saw the pile of the ruined castle not far off, and sighed in relief. He felt her start to shiver against him, and quickly set off.

_Already she is recovering_, he heard the other girl in his mind. _My thanks to you, Lord King . . ._

"You still haven't told me the condition!" He felt the girl's reply fading away as she took her leave.

She laughed, a happy, silvery sound. _You will impose the condition yourself- the depth of your feelings for my granddaughter will not let you do otherwise. You will know when it is met. Until then, farewell. Take good care of her._ Then she was gone, and with her, the path to his power. In truth, he counted it no loss.

Not compared to what he had gained, who he held in his arms.

Author's Note: *sigh* They made it! Smooth sailing from here, right? Let me know what you think, please review!


	9. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own the twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. In this chapter, I believe that I own Sari and no one else. (grins)

Re-Visions 

Chapter 9

Being a cat, Sari was never a heavy sleeper. In truth, she knew that often people fell sick at night, or a baby decided that he wanted to be born, or any of a number of other things could happen. So she was not really asleep when the banging began on the infirmary door. She leapt up from her pallet immediately, and rushed to open the outer door, already running through what this visit could mean in terms of her knowledge and store of medicines.

She was surprised to see Van outside the infirmary door. He had been beating on it? Then she saw the pale figure he carried, the worry etched on his features. "Sire! What happened? Quickly . . ." She stepped aside. "Is she hurt?"

"I don't think so . . . but she needs your help anyway . . ." He laid Hitomi on the nearest cot and stepped back reluctantly, his eyes never leaving her. Sari noticed this in the instant before she bent to examine the girl.

"What strange clothing! How do I take it off? I can't examine her properly if she wears this heavy . . . fleecy thing. Well, I suppose we'll just have to pull it off." Muttering to herself, she pulled the girl up into a sitting position, and heard her moan softly. "Lady? Can you hear me?" There was no response, and Sari sighed. "Sire, pull this outer layer off her."

Startled and blushing, Van did as she asked, dropping it into a heap on the floor when he had done so. Sari laid Hitomi back on the cot and began to undo the buttons of her shirt. Now fiercely red, Van turned away.

Sari was trying to control her shock. She's so emaciated, she thought, and started looking for signs the girl might have been a slave. But there were none, only a black and blue mark encircling one wrist. The wrist itself didn't appear to be broken. She hardly needed the little half-corset that held her breasts. Despite the fact that Sari could see the outline of every rib beneath her skin, and the sharp edges of her collarbone, the girl appeared to be uninjured. She was breathing easily, in a very heavy sleep. She was shivering, but when Sari checked her brow, she wasn't feverish. The night was chill. Carefully, she pulled off the girl's shirt and shoes, and the heavy trousers she wore, still checking for hidden wounds, before covering her with a blanket.

When she looked at him, it seemed that Van was standing with his arms crossed, staring intently at the floor. His back was to her. When she said "Lord Van," though, he jumped and gasped, and she realized he was hugging himself tightly, as if trying to keep some strong emotion from finding its way out, and had had his eyes closed. He half turned to her, letting his arms fall to his sides. She kept her surprise inside. Sometimes, watching the maturity with which he shouldered the burden of his kingdom, it was hard to remember that he was still little more than a boy, whose 18th birthday was still a few days away. "Who is she?" she asked, seeing she had his attention. "Where did she come from? Why in the name of all that's holy is she so thin? She looks as though she's been starved."

"Sari, what tales do they tell of the war?" He closed his eyes and slumped onto the cot next to Hitomi's.

"You mean . . . about Escaflowne? About the . . ." Her amber eyes widened, and she glanced back at the still figure on the narrow bed. "That's her? The girl from the Mystic Moon?" Without even noticing his nod, she continued, "What could have happened to her there? What evil befell her?"

Van was silent for a long moment. He opened his eyes and stared at Hitomi's pale face. She was still smiling, faintly. Drawn by that smile, he stood again, and took the step that brought him next to her. He ran one finger lightly down her cheek, barely touching. In that simple gesture, Sari saw the depth of the stoic king's feelings for the girl from the Mystic Moon.

She thought he had forgotten about her when he said, "What has Merle told you?" He was still looking at the girl, still gently touching her face. His tone was soft, but Sari caught the underlying edge.

"Merle has told me nothing, my lord," she replied quietly.

Van straightened his shoulders and faced her again. His eyes were intense in the torchlight. "During the war, she saved my life, and I hers. We . . . we had a bond, of some sort. Even after she returned to her home, we were still able to communicate after a fashion. But a year ago, that was suddenly broken." She saw him clench his fist. "Today, we managed to reestablish it, and she called to me for help. I found a way to get to the Mystic Moon and brought her back. She . . ." he swallowed convulsively. "She had fallen into despair, and couldn't even bring herself to eat," he finished in a whisper.

"There are holes in that story I could throw a horse through," Sari said evenly. He merely stared at her, keeping his expression neutral, but his eyes blazed, daring her. She met his glare, her own eyes calm as usual, but then looked back at the girl. "She couldn't eat? No wonder she's so gaunt. I'll make up some broth for her in the morning." Noticing how he was taken aback at her words, she said, "Well, it is late now, Sire, and she's sleeping peacefully. Right now, she's in no real danger, and as long as she takes food, she will recover." Fixing him with a piercing look, she said, "You would do well to follow your lady's lead and sleep." She smiled to herself as he flushed again, then she entered her room and shut the door.

After Sari left, Van stared down at Hitomi for many long moments. He realized he was holding himself in again, arms crossed and hands grasping his shoulders, and forced himself to relax. His heart was beating so hard, thumping against the walls of his chest, that it felt like it would tear out of him and fly away. The absolute joy he felt, just looking on her as she slept- it was so strong it was almost too much to take. He'd imagined it, but imagination was nothing compared to reality. He brushed a lock of hair back from her forehead. Hitomi, when you wake, I will tell you . . . I promise. Trying to be quiet, he dragged one of Sari's chairs over to Hitomi's cot, and merely sat beside her, holding her hand. Somehow, it was enough.

***

When Hitomi woke, something felt strange. The bed, she decided. It's not mine. Then she realized she was nearly naked under the blanket. She opened her eyes in shock and started uncomprehendingly at the stone ceiling, the stone walls all around. "Where . . ." she whispered. Then memory caught up with her and she smiled. Gaea. Van had come for her, and brought her back.

"You're awake, my lady?" The voice was low and kind, and coming from just to her right. When she looked, she saw what she first thought was an older version of Merle, but then she realized this cat-woman was much more leonine. She was all golden as the sunlight fell on her. "How do you feel this morning?" As the cat-woman bent to help her sit up, Hitomi felt the softness of her fur against her skin, and saw the grey streaks in her mane.

Sitting up was a bit of a chore, but when she was upright, she felt oddly better, though she held the blanket over her front. Sari handed her her shirt and she shrugged it on gratefully before answering. "I . . . I'm hungry," she said in some wonder, because it was true. It had been so long since she had even wanted to eat, that the growling she felt seemed strange.

"I'm not surprised." This time, the woman's tone was dry. As she spoke, she crossed the room to the hearth, and came back with a tray of food. It consisted of a bowl of broth, a small chunk of bread and a cup of water. She laid it on Hitomi's lap. "Here you go. Eat slowly, now," she cautioned. "Your stomach will need to get used to holding food again, after so long without."

"How did you know that?" Hitomi asked, her hand trembling on the spoon.

"My lady, I am a doctor, and, dare I say it, a very good one. I can tell just by looking at you that you haven't eaten a decent meal in months." Her eyes were stern as she stared at Hitomi, but after a moment, she smiled slightly and said, "His Majesty told me a few things as well."

"His Maj . . .Van?" How could Van know? I haven't told him anything . . . unless Grandmother . . . "Where is he?" she asked, suddenly terrified that this was a dream, and she'd wake back in her own bed. She felt tremors invade her body.

"My lady, calm yourself." The girl was shaking. Sari heard the abrupt fear in her voice, and took hold of one of her hands. "Lord Van is right here, asleep." She moved slightly, so the girl could see the next cot. Van was sprawled on it, facing her, a blanket draped over him. His breaths were deep and slow. "He sat with you all night. I had to threaten to knock him over the head before he would agree to go to bed." Her tone became pointed again as she said, "You can see how far my authority goes . . . I told him to go back to his room."

Hitomi smiled, both at the woman's words and her sight of Van. He was all right. This wasn't a dream, then. She looked back at the doctor and said, "Please, just call me Hitomi. You don't need to call me 'my lady' . . . I'm sorry, I don't know your name . . ." She trailed off, embarrassed.

Sari smiled again. "My name is Sari, and I think I will need to call you 'my lady', so please don't be offended." She nodded toward the tray. "Now, you really should eat."

The broth was delicious. She was full when she emptied the bowl, and could not eat the bread. Her shrunken stomach could hold no more. "That was very good," she said as Sari removed the tray.

Sari snorted. "I'm glad you like it, because you're going to get quite a bit of it before you're ready for anything else. I'm sure you'll be heartily sick of it."

Hitomi laughed at her, surprised at how light and happy she felt. It had been a long time since she'd felt so at peace. Then she yawned.

"Feeling sleepy?" Sari asked. When Hitomi nodded, she said, "Good. Just go back to sleep. You'll need to restore your body as much as you can . . ." The rest of what she said was lost as Hitomi felt her eyes drift shut again.

Sari trailed off as she saw the girl fall back to sleep. "Just sleep," she murmured. "I'm sure he'll still be here when you wake again." She looked at the pair of them, slumbering, and shook her head, still smiling. I suppose I'll have to find Merle and tell her where Lord Van is. Otherwise, she'll have a fit. Quietly, she slipped out the door, closing it softly behind her.

Van awoke with a start at the quiet click of the door. Disgusted with himself, he pushed his body off the bed. I only meant to lay down, he thought. But I guess I was tired.

Voices had invaded his dreams a short while before, soft womanly voices, and he was sure one of them had been Hitomi's. He studied her carefully, unaware of the grin he wore. She had put her shirt back on- he could see it covering her shoulders. There was a bit of color in her cheeks. As he watched, she curled up on her side, a look of contentment on her face. Unable to hold back anymore, he bent and caressed her face, then kissed her gently on the cheek. "If this is a dream, I never want to wake . . ." he breathed against her face, briefly touching his forehead to hers. Then, he quickly drew back, almost afraid of his own words. He walked over to the window and opened the shutter, needing to feel the sunlight on him.

Sometime during the night, Van had accepted the fact that the condition on his time with Hitomi would probably be her eventual return to the Mystic Moon. At first, he decided that if that were so, he would do his best not to get too close to her, so as not to miss her so much when she was gone. He would be strong, he would deny himself her company, and then, he might be able to let her go . . . Then he had felt the tear trickling down his face, even as he held her hand.

No, he had realized. That was stupid. If she wants to go, I'll let her, even if it breaks my heart. Wouldn't it be better . . . to spend every moment I can with her? To have something to look back on once she was gone? Just forget there's a condition, and reach out to her . . . maybe even tell her I love her.

Now, as he looked out at the morning, he couldn't help but feel it had been the right decision. His heart felt a little lighter.

He had told Sari that he was going to stay here, before she forced him to rest. She had nodded, and asked rhetorically, "And if I said no? Not that I expect you'd listen . . ." She had left, which probably meant he could expect Merle any moment. He moved to bar the door.

***

Hitomi knew it was hours later when she next opened her eyes. The shadows were long, and the light starting to fade. But none of that mattered. Van was there. She knew it was he holding her hand, could feel him through their link. When she looked at him, he was dozing, slumped in the chair beside her bed. Well, she thought wryly, it can't be much fun to watch a sleeping person. Sari said he sat with me all night . . . She smiled, and brought her head down to his hand where it grasped hers, and gave it a soft kiss. She had been curled on her side for hours, and needed to stretch that shoulder, but somehow, she knew if she made any such movement, it would wake him.

But I do need to talk to him, she decided finally. She studied his face as she started to send him happy thoughts, grins and laughter, reassurance and caring. He smiled before his eyes fluttered open.

"Well. That looks like a pleasant way to wake up," she said.

She had never before seen the expression he now wore. The closest she could recall was when she'd seen him sitting on the rocks at the bay, but the smile then had been tinged with sadness. Now, though, there was none, and for some deep reason she couldn't name, it filled her with joy.

"How do you feel?" His voice startled her, and she blinked, then grinned.

"Like I could just about burst from happiness!" She pushed herself upright as she spoke, and he pulled his hand away. Making a tent under the blanket with her knees, she leaned forward slightly and rested her arms on them. She laid her cheek on her arms and just looked at him.

He had changed so much! He'd grown at least six inches, and she guessed he was almost as tall as Folken had been. His shoulders were broader now, and she could see the same could be said for his chest. His face looked more mature. But- he hadn't changed at all. His hair still hung in his eyes, his eyes still burned in the right light, and he still had the fire and intensity she had come to love. Just to see him brought her such delight, she really thought she would explode.

Van became a bit uncomfortable under her scrutiny. He looked away, fearing he would get lost in her eyes. He stood, but before he could move further, to put distance between them despite his good intentions- she touched his hand. "I'm glad you're here, Van," she said faintly. He looked down at her, startled. Her fingers were gently holding his hand, and her green eyes were bright in her pale face. "If you weren't . . . if you weren't . . ." As he watched, stunned, tears started to spill down her cheeks.

Without warning, all the heartbreak she had felt this past year and more washed over her, and she couldn't keep herself from crying. She hid her face against her knees, and was struck by a memory. Was it only a couple nights ago when she had seen him in this very position? Her shoulders shook harder at the thought.

Gingerly, trying not to upset the cot, he sat beside her. He wrapped his arms around her awkwardly. Oh, how it hurt to see her cry . . . He was unaware he started rocking her, stroking her hair as she buried her sobs against his chest. "Please, don't cry," he whispered. "I'm here now, it's all right . . ." Somehow, he knew she was comforted by his presence, although he couldn't say why.

Her tears lasted only for a moment, and she stopped, sniffling. She had turned toward him, and twined her arms about his waist. She could sense their precarious position just by her slightly offset balance, but she didn't want to pull back just yet. Not when having his arms around her felt so good, after so long.

Nor did Van want it to end. He suddenly became acutely aware of her body pressed against him, and felt himself flush. He had never held a girl before . . . at least, not like this. Merle had usually been the one doing the holding. He had never been interested, being too young, and then they were fighting the war. After the war, there were a couple girls who'd tried to let him know they wouldn't mind . . . but he had ignored them until they went away. It had seemed . . . wrong, in some way.

"I still have something to tell you, Van," he heard her say quietly. He started to pull back, but her arms tightened around him. "No, don't. Don't move." He stilled, not taking his arms from her, even as she squirmed about. She ended up sitting facing him, her face inches from his. He stared at her, puzzled.

Was this the right way? Hitomi wondered. Yes, she decided. It is. She smiled gently at his confused frown, and reached up to brush his hair away from his face. It fell right back into place, but she had the satisfaction of watching his eyes widen in astonishment, seeing him blush as she cupped his cheek. "I love you." Then, before he could react, she closed her eyes and kissed him.

Her words shocked him, but not as much as the touch of her lips. A jolt ran through him, all the way to his toes, at her soft kiss. He shivered, and closed his eyes. Now he was the one who felt he could fly apart from the happiness. Her fingers were warm against his cheek, slowly sliding down to rest on his shoulder.

Even though the kiss was brief, Hitomi was still breathless then she broke it. After Allen's cold kiss, and the torture of Kenji's, it finally felt right. This was what she always imagined a kiss would be like. She rested her forehead against Van's, and was a bit amused and pleased to hear he was short of breath as well. She smiled again, eyes still closed. She knew her face was red, and from the heat she felt radiating from him, his was just as bright. His arms tightened around her, and she returned his embrace with all the strength she had.

"Oh, gods, Hitomi," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I have waited so long to hear you say that . . ." He drew her closer to him, bent his head to rest it on her frail shoulder, and felt her do the same. "I love you, Hitomi . . . but I could never find the courage to tell you . . ."

Her breath tickled his neck as she replied, "It's all right. After all, how long did I make eyes at Allen? I was so oblivious." He shuddered as her lips brushed the side of his throat. "It took me so long . . . and then . . . I couldn't tell you either. A fine pair we make." It was funny, she realized. All the times our minds have touched, love had never been mentioned.

He was actually a little relieved when she sat back again; it had been getting hard to think with her soft breaths stimulating the nerves in his neck. Another part of him missed the contact, and he reached out to run the back of his hand lightly down her cheek. She closed her eyes and smiled again.

When she opened them again, Van was frowning slightly, staring over her shoulder. "Van? Is something wrong?"

He blinked and looked back at her. "No. I just thought I saw something."

Uncharacteristically, Sari had spent much of the day in the rest of the castle. Well, she felt she had to, to keep Merle from bothering the sick girl or the king. When she returned, she'd opened the door and silently slipped in. She'd seen Van, asleep again, but holding the girl's hand. She'd smiled, and entered her room. A few minutes later, she thought she heard them talking, but was engrossed in her text. Then, there was the sound of someone crying. That caught her attention. It usually meant someone was in pain. She peeked around the doorway, and saw the king holding the girl- Hitomi, she reminded herself- as she wept. Then she kissed him. Sari smiled, watching them for a moment, and drew back into her chamber just as the king happened to look up. Despite their low tones, she heard the rest of their conversation, tuned in now in spite of herself.

She thought she had left Merle occupied for the entire afternoon, but it was not to be. She knew just who it was when the door banged open, and sighed.

"Lord Van . . . Hitomiiiiii!"

Sari heard a yelp from the girl, and a crash, then some loud groans. There was the sound of many slurps, and much giggling, and "Merle! Stop it!" from the king. She shook her head at the envisioned shambles of her sickroom, and hurriedly stepped out to stop the chaos.


	10. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own the twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. In this chapter, I believe that I own Sari and no one else. (grins)

Re-Visions 

Chapter 10

The day after her arrival, Sari let Hitomi find out how weak she really was by letting her get out of bed. Her lack of strength shocked the girl, Sari could tell. She watched her face grow grim and determined. After that, Sari often wondered if she needed to tie the girl to her bed- whenever Sari came in to check on her, she was sitting in one of the chairs, or walking around the chamber, or climbing up into one of the shuttered window embrasures to sit. There were a few clashes of temper. Sari was surprised at Hitomi's strength of will. "I'm not going to recover by staying in bed!" she shouted at the healer one day when her patience was utterly exhausted. Sari silently applauded Hitomi's decision and her courage, but agreed with seeming reluctance.

Gradually, Sari began to supplement Hitomi's broth with bread and fruits, then turned it into soup, with vegetables in the broth. At the end of about 3 sevendays, she had commenced to eat the stew that those who still lived in the castle- a bare few in comparison to the horde it had been 3 years ago- were heartily sick of. The healer watched in amusement as the girl consumed it like it was the nectar of the gods.

By the time she had graduated to the stew, Hitomi and Merle had started to sneak out of the room while Sari was gone, and go for short walks outside the damaged castle. Although Hitomi was very tired by the end of the day from their jaunts, she knew she was getting stronger. She even talked Merle into letting her run one day, though that ended with Hitomi stumbling to a stop after 50 meters, spots dancing in front of her eyes for a moment, and Merle scolding her for pushing herself too hard.

It was nice to get to know the "new" Merle, Hitomi thought more than once while she was recovering. While no longer insanely jealous or overprotective of Van, she still could not be considered quiet. She had turned 16, but still retained much of her prepubescent bounce and verve, even as she matured. She had matured, Hitomi knew, from her soft confession, the first time they were truly alone.

"I didn't want to admit it, you know," Merle told Hitomi as they walked, unable to look at her. "I could see Lord Van growing to care for you, and I couldn't stand it. And you were so easy to like, and to tease . . ." she laughed quietly. "But eventually, I couldn't avoid it. For a long time after you left, I thought he still might come to see me like that . . . But finally, I had to realize that I would only ever be his little sister. It hurt, but not as much as I thought it would. I mean . . . I was giving up my life-long passion, and I hardly even cried . . . Old habits really aren't that hard to break. Once I accepted him as just my big brother, it was easy to stop throwing myself at him, and clinging to him." She shuddered. "Sometimes, I wonder how he could have stood me."

Hitomi put a hand on Merle's shoulder. "Because he does love you. How could he not love a sister like you? I want you to know that I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to cause you pain, then or ever."

"I know. You would never hurt anyone intentionally," the cat girl replied as they slowly walked back to the castle.

Only a few days later, they got caught. When they noticed the lateness of the hour, they tried to sneak back into the infirmary, but Sari was waiting for them. "My lady," she said gravely. "Where have you been?"

Hitomi gulped. "I was with Merle the whole time . . ."

"She was!" Merle agreed emphatically.

" . . . And if I had had any trouble, she would have gotten you . . ."

"I would!"

"That's not the point!" Sari interrupted sharply. Both girls immediately fell silent. "My lady, I know right well that you have been wandering around the castle, both inside and out, against my orders." She smiled, surprising both Hitomi and Merle. "If you are well enough to do that, then you don't need to be under my care. Or under my eye, or underfoot here in the infirmary. You are released." She watched in amusement as they glanced at each other, confused. "Go on, go," she said, making a shooing motion with her hands. "I'll be glad to get some peace and quiet back in here," she grumbled mockingly, still grinning.

They smiled at each other, and Hitomi stepped forward to take Sari's hand. "Thank you so much for all your care and kindness."

Sari patted her hand. "You are welcome, my lady."

Hitomi sighed. "It's not my lady, it's Hitomi . . . please."

Sari studied the girl for a moment before answering. The skin was no longer drawn so tightly over the bones of her face. She was pink from the spring sun, and her eyes sparkled. She was starting to show that she wasn't a boy after all, but a woman, with a dip at her waist, and the slight flare of her hip. She was still much too thin, but she was recovering. "I'm sorry, Lady Hitomi, but I don't think I can call you only that. Now get going. Merle will help you find a new place to sleep after supper."

After they left, Merle snorted. "Like I have to! Of course, you'll sleep in Lord Van's room!"

Hitomi felt herself flush bright red. "I can't do that!"

Merle stopped, puzzled. "Why not?"

"I . . . I just can't. Where I'm from, it's not right."

The cat girl balled her fists on her hips. "Not right? What are you talking about?"

Flames, Hitomi thought. Flames of embarrassment, burning me up. Are things that different here? There's no way I can explain this! Not without sounding like an idiot. The only way this could be worse is if . . .

"Hitomi? Merle?" It was Van.

Hitomi decided that the floor wasn't going to open up and swallow her, no matter how she wished it would, and turned to face him.

"What is going on?" Van was puzzled. A few days ago, he had started to bring supper to the infirmary to eat with Hitomi, Sari and Merle. He balanced a stack of bowls in one hand and held a small cookpot in the other.

"Oh, Merle was just teasing me, right, Merle?" She glared at the cat girl, who just sniffed and looked away. She stepped forward to take the bowls from Van, and he smiled. "Sari has just kicked me out of the infirmary, and she suggested Merle help me find another place to sleep."

"Kicked you out? Why?" He stared at her, and she looked down at the bowls, still red.

"Well, she said that . . ."

Merle interrupted. "We got caught today, Lord Van. Sari said that Hitomi is well enough now to not need her care. Catching us . . . was just an excuse. Sari knew days ago what we were doing. She's all right." She eyed Hitomi, smiling slyly. "And I told her I had the perfect place for her to sleep from now on . . ."

Knowing the way Merle's mind worked, Van could see where this was leading, and why Hitomi was blushing. He felt his face redden as well, and glanced away. Merle had probably told Hitomi that she should sleep with me . . .

Oh, how I would like her to . . .

He blinked. Where had that come from? Best bury that . . . "Uh . . . if you'd rather not sleep downstairs," he said softly, not looking at either girl. Merle's face could hardly contain her grin, and Hitomi's was simply wide eyes and wonder. "You know, around the people, there is a room upstairs, down the hallway from mine." Merle's face fell, and Hitomi sighed inwardly in relief. "It's empty, no one wants it. But you have to promise me you won't go out on the balcony. It's not safe." He looked at her then, his voice stern as he spoke, and saw her smiling at him gratefully.

"Thank you, Van," she answered. "I think that would be great."

He smiled in return. "Seeing as how we've lost our dining area, would you care to come outside and watch the sunset as we eat?" She nodded, and they started to walk away, leaving Merle staring after them in astonishment.

"Coming, Merle?" Van called, just as they were about to turn the corner. She glared at their backs, and stuck out her tongue. Then she realized they weren't stopping. They're going to leave without me! she thought, starting to run.

"Hey! Wait for me!" I'll get them for this, she thought sourly.

Later that night, Hitomi sat on the blankets Merle had given her, staring out the open shutters. I'll close them before I go to sleep, she thought. I should be tired, but I'm not . . . or maybe I'm too tired to sleep. The Earth and Moon had risen outside the windows long ago, and were headed toward zenith. It was late, she knew, but she kept wondering why Merle had made that suggestion. And why did I almost agree? Mom would have my head if she knew . . . After a moment, she shook her head and rose to her feet. Before closing the shutters, she peeked out at the balcony to which they led. Van was right, it didn't look safe.

Van . . . She pushed the shutters closed, and felt her way back to her pallet. They hadn't had a moment alone together since his birthday, only a few days after her arrival. Merle had told her the day. She had gravely congratulated him on his advancing age, to which he'd flushed and glared at Merle. Not long after, she had faked a yawn, and Van had ushered Merle out over her protests, telling her that Hitomi was tired. "I'm just going to say goodnight to Hitomi, Merle," he'd told the cat girl, still a bit exasperated. "I'll be right out." He'd shut the door in her face, and turned back to Hitomi, sighing.

Hitomi had laughed at his expression. She had been sitting in one of Sari's chairs, but stood as he approached her, glad to find she was much steadier than the previous day. They embraced, and she rested her head against his shoulder. She herself had not grown nearly as much as he had, and was more than a head shorter than he. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't have a gift for your birthday."

She had felt his arms tighten around her. "Oh, yes, you do."

Opening her eyes, she had pulled back an inch or two, so she could look up at him in confusion. He was smiling, that wonderful small smile that radiated all his joy. "What do you mean?"

His response had been to bend and kiss her softly. She closed her eyes again. The fire had run through her, just as it had in their first kiss, liquid warmth flooding her veins. "You have already given me the only thing I have ever really wanted," he murmured against her lips, holding her closer for an instant before releasing her. Before he turned away, she saw in his face that he was frightened- of his words, of his actions, of rejection, she wasn't sure. She only knew he needn't be.

Before he had taken a step, she threw her arms around him from behind, holding him as tight as she could. "I'm not going to take it back, you know," she chided him gently. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. I love you."

His hands grasped hers where they lay on his waist, and he bent his head. "I know you mean it," he had whispered. "I love you, just as much." He half turned back to her, and she could see his slight smile.

Hitomi shook herself from the memory, still standing by her blankets. Since then, he had started working down in the city again, or on the castle, or was held in one of the meetings she knew he detested. With work nearly completed on the city below, it was time to consider fully opening the country to the rest of the world again. I know he can't spend every minute with me, but it's like he's avoiding me . . .

She made her way to the door, a slightly blacker shadow within the darkness. One hand trailing along the wall, she shuffled down the corridor, trying to avoid whatever lurked to trip her. Her hand encountered emptiness, and she knew she'd reached his door. She squared her shoulders and looked in. If he was still awake, they were going to talk . . . Her eyes had slowly adjusted to the night, and she was surprised at what she saw.

Despite the chill, Van had kicked off his blankets. He was thrashing against the floor, unmistakably caught in the throes of a nightmare. Even as she stepped in to shake him awake, he sat bolt upright, crying out. "No!" His voice was filled with longing and despair, and it made her heart ache. Before his call could fade away, she knelt beside him, and took him in her arms. He was shaking, panting as if he'd run miles. She rested her cheek against his head, stroking his back, whispering, "Shhh, Van, it's all right, it's only a dream . . ."

_He was walking with her, in the palace gardens as they had been before the war. Suddenly, black smoke roiled up, thick and hot, cutting off his vision. He tried to peer through it, to find her, but the city was again on fire, and in the noise and confusion, he couldn't. He ran wildly, calling her name. "Hitomi!" The smoke resolved itself into stone castle walls, dimly lit by moonlight, ghostly illumination. There was a wraith of fog drifting about his knees. He ran down the corridor, toward the king's chambers. "Hitomi!" he shouted. He burst through the door. The mist twined about his legs, coming from the bedroom. He dashed through that door, stopping short of the great canopied bed. She was there, standing in the moonlight, wearing a glowing pearly gown. She was staring out the window, palms raised to the moons. The fog was floating from her dress. "Hitomi," he breathed, and took a step toward her._

At the sound of his voice, she turned to him, smiling sweetly. "Van." She lowered her hands, and the mist dissipated.

Abruptly, he realized she was wearing the strange clothes she'd worn from the Mystic Moon. "Hitomi? What are you . . ." He was only a pace away, and reached out to touch her.

"Goodbye, Van. I'm going back to my world." Without warning, there was a blue-white light surrounding her, pulling her off the ground. She closed her eyes, still smiling, and spiraled out of sight, without a backward glance . . .

"No!" he cried, reaching out to her. He was awake. Suddenly, she was there, embracing him, comforting him. He could feel her warm hands on the bare skin of his back, gently moving up and down. She was crooning something to him, so softly he could barely hear the words, telling him it was only a dream.

Oh, but this dream will come true eventually, Van thought despondently, closing his eyes.

After his words to her on his birthday, he'd first had this nightmare. His fear of losing her again had overcome him. He spent time with her, but he wouldn't let himself be alone with her. But it felt so good to hold her, to feel her arms around him.

She heard his harsh breathing slowly return to normal. He had turned his face onto her shoulder as she held him, one of his hands on her arm. She pulled back a little, looking down at him, and quietly asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Immediately, he lifted his head from her shoulder and shook it. No, he didn't want to, not now, not ever, if he could help it. He didn't even want to speak, afraid it would all come tumbling out. Reluctantly, he released her arm, and forced himself to move away from her. But he couldn't stop himself from looking at her, couldn't keep his eyes from begging her not to go.

Hitomi cocked her head to one side, studying him curiously. She could feel his gaze on her, but could see his face only as a shadow. She reached out to brush his hair away from his face. A shock ran through her when she touched him, but she did it anyway. He gasped as she touched him- he must have felt the jolt as well. Obviously, something was bothering him, and just as obviously, he wasn't ready to talk about it. For a second, she thought about using the link to find out the problem, if she could, but instantly dismissed the idea. He had a right to privacy, and she would not violate it by forcing the issue. When he was ready, then they would talk.

She smiled at him, even though she knew he probably wouldn't see it in the dark. "All right. Lie back down," she ordered, pressing him back. "Be quiet now," she continued as he resisted. She pulled up his blankets again when he did as she asked. She took his hand in one of hers, and with the other, stroked his forehead, running her fingers through his hair. In a gentle tone, she began to sing.

Her voice was light and soothing, pleasing to the ear. He let his eyes drift shut.

She sang until she heard his breath become deep and slow. Carefully, trying to wake him again, she laid his hand on his chest and crept from the room.

It was a long, long time before she could find sleep herself.

She waited- very patiently, she thought- for another 2 days. Nothing changed; he was still uncommunicative, and would only come near her if Merle were with her, she suddenly noticed. She held her temper in check, but it finally snapped on the third morning, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from laying into Merle, who, for a change, had done nothing to deserve it. It was time, she decided. He would talk to her.

Unfortunately, part of the reason her temper was so short was that the pyromaniac was back. A commotion, down the hall in Van's room, had woken her very early that morning. When she asked Merle later, the cat girl told her everything, from the first summer through now, including the family he'd killed just before her arrival.

She was sitting in the window in his room waiting for him when he stormed back in. 

Van's mood was black, as black as he could ever remember. The bastard had done it again, had set fire to another occupied house! Thankfully, this time no one had been seriously hurt; a crying child had woken the house just before the blaze really took hold. The first time- when Pol and Lara had died- it might have been a mistake, as they had only moved their belongings in that day. This family had been in residence all winter. There was no possible doubt; he was out to kill someone this time.

And somehow, I can't stop him. That thought incensed him further. The feeling of helplessness was almost intolerable. The walk back to the castle did nothing to calm him. The cool of early morning had given way to a warm bright day, but the air was heavy with smoke, clinging to his clothes. All I could do was watch. I couldn't stop it. He clenched his gloves in his fist, forgetting that he held them. The few people still living in the castle- mostly those who had been servants, and had lived there before- stayed well out of his way, frightened perhaps by his angry scowl. He stomped his way to his room, intending to bruise his knuckles against the wall, pace and- eventually, hopefully- calm down enough to think rationally about the matter.

His gloves had hit the wall next to the window with a resounding smack before he registered her presence in the room.

Slowly, Hitomi unfolded herself from her position in the window. The sight and feel of his overwhelming anger, even as he tried to choke it back, was enough to make her own disappear. Well, she thought, he does have a right to be furious. Her eyes narrowed as he turned from her, but it only strengthened her determination. I will make him talk to me, but first, I've got to calm him down.

Van jumped when she put her hand on his arm. "All right, let's go," she said, tugging on the limb she had captured. She started dragging him toward the door.

"Wait! What . . ." He took a second look at her, and dug in his heels. "Why are you wearing my clothes?" he asked in bewilderment, his anger pushed aside.

For she was. The white pants were so worn as to be almost threadbare, but he noticed there were fresh patches on the knees. He recognized them as a pair he'd outgrown a couple years ago, and they were a little big on her. The shirt, too, was an old one, but not nearly so shabby. It had long sleeves, which she'd rolled up a bit so the cuffs weren't over her hands. She'd tucked the red shirt, like most of what clothes he owned, into the pants, probably to help hold them up. She still wore her sneakers.

"Mine were dirty, so I washed them. Merle found these for me. Come on." She wasn't about to be sidetracked. She pulled him toward the door again.

He gave up, gave in to his desire to spend time with her, despite his fear. "Where are we going?"

"You are going to take us to a quiet place, where no one will interrupt us, and we are going to talk. Where can we go, where no one will bother us?"

She felt him stop again in the hall, and turned to him. He was staring at her in concern. "Are . . . are you well enough for a long walk?" he asked hesitantly.

"I think so," she answered. "Maybe not all the way to where your family's monuments are, but I could make a hike."

"All right then. I know a place. Follow me." He took the lead, and she trailed him out of the castle and into the forest. They walked in an uneasy silence for perhaps a quarter of an hour. Then the trees gave way to a grassy clearing, with a stream flowing in a rocky bed. A decorative bridge, hardly necessary given the width of the water, was set across it. A few ancient stumps could be used as seats, if desired. Some old trees populated the clearing, their spreading branches a leafy canopy overhead. The only sounds were the chirps of birds, and the rush of the water.

"Oh, Van," she breathed. "This is lovely." She stepped forward, to examine the bridge more closely.

"This was Mother's place," Van said softly, glancing around. His eyes were filled with memories. "She used to bring Folken and me here sometimes. Whenever she felt the need to get away from the castle for a while, she'd come here alone, or with one of us. Father knew he could find her here. He drew the design of the bridge."

Hitomi heard the wistful note in his voice, and returned to take his hand. Silently, she guided him to the stream, thankful he made no protest. "Sit down," she told him, when the reached the grass at the water's edge. Puzzled, he complied. She knelt behind him.

"Hitomi? What are you doing?" He craned his neck to try to see her.

"Just relax." She started to dig her fingers into the knots of his shoulders.

Immediately, he groaned in pleasure and closed his eyes, feeling the tension flow out of him.

She massaged his back and shoulders until her hands ached. He had some knots of muscle so tight she wondered that he wasn't in pain. He was utterly relaxed now, slumped forward slightly. She rubbed her hands gently up and down his back. How can I start this? How can I get him to open up? she asked herself. An evil thought struck her, and she grinned. Well, that would probably work . . . Leaning forward, her hands still on his back, she inquired softly, "Van? Can I ask you a question?"

He grunted, which she took for an affirmative. Grinning wickedly, she asked, "Are you ticklish?"

His eyes flew open. "What?" But it was too late- her fingers were already on his sides, just below his ribs, making him squirm and laugh in spite of himself.

"Hmmm, I guess you are! How about here?" Giggling herself, Hitomi started to broaden the range of her attack, pursuing him when he fell helplessly to his side, convulsing with laughter.

"Stop! Stop!" he gasped out, trying unsuccessfully to escape. After several attempts, he managed to grab one of her hands, and, now able to regroup, started to do some tickling of his own.

"No!" she shrieked, twisting away in vain. She was much more ticklish than he, he discovered with some satisfaction. She tried to push him away, as they teetered at the water's edge, squealing when he got her just under her ribs on one side, then the other. In a matter of moments, he reduced her to a giggling and shrieking puddle on the ground beneath him.

Suddenly, he realized he was lying on top of her, every curve of her body pressed against him. He blushed a deep red, and released her hands, levering himself up onto his elbows. He stared down at her, eyes wide, mortally embarrassed, even though she was smiling at him. Her own cheeks were pink, her eyes bright. But then he felt a curious heat flow through him, and couldn't move away. He didn't want to, now. None of his actions were under his conscious control. Slowly, he bent, his eyes drifting shut, and kissed her, softly at first, then harder when he felt her hands running up his back, to press against his shoulders.

She felt his surprise when her tongue flicked across his lips. Yukari had told her that Amano had once kissed her this way . . . She felt Van's lips part, and before she knew it, their tongues were twining in his mouth. His taste was indescribable, and wonderful. That strange warmth filled her body again.

Van was lost. Lost in her taste, her touch, lost in her. He knew it, but he couldn't stop kissing her.

Finally, the need to breathe forced the kiss to end. Her breath was ragged in his ear, and he felt her arms start to tighten around him. He tensed to push himself away from her, to retreat. He needed to get away . . .

She let him scramble away, as if she'd burned him, but before he stood, she took hold of his hand and said, "Don't. Please don't shut me out. Tell me . . . tell me why I seem to hurt you so . . ."

He could hear the tears in her voice, and it cut him to know he caused her pain. He sank back onto the grass from his crouch. It was time. Holding her hand, he told her everything her grandmother had told him. He told her of the condition, his eyes closed. It was hard to find the words when it came to how he felt, and his nightmare, but she pressed his hand, silently encouraging him. As utterly miserable as he had ever been, he concluded, "I want you to be happy, so if you want to go back, if that will make you happy . . ." He trailed off, unable to continue.

She was silent a long time, digesting what he said. He had bared his soul to her, she knew, stroking the back of his hand. She could do no less. Finally, she asked, "Would that make you happy?" He stared at the stream, refusing to look at her. She sighed. "You know, if I stayed, I would miss my family so much, Mom and Dad, and my little brother . . . Yukari, and all my friends." She watched as he closed his eyes, and she could feel the pain radiating from him. She leaned closer and whispered, "But being with them would not, could not make me as happy as being with you." She smiled gently as his eyes flew open and she stared at her in surprise and hope. "You are my happiness, Van. I can't be happy if you are not. Last time, I didn't know it. I had to learn it the hard way. This time, I know it, I know I love you, and I don't want to go. Would it be all right if I stayed?" His only response was to crush her in his embrace, as fervent an agreement as she'd ever had.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own the twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. (No one that I own appears in this chapter, though.)

Re-Visions

Chapter 11

The sun was sinking in the west when Van and Hitomi returned to the castle. For a while, she had spoken of her family- silently telling them goodbye as she did. He had done the same, his voice soft as he told her what he remembered of his mother and father. She sat beside him, her head resting on his shoulder, while he had one arm draped loosely about her as they spoke.

When he finished, they sat in a companionable silence for some time. Slowly, he became aware she was leaning against him rather heavily. When he looked, she had fallen asleep, a slight happy curve to her lips. Careful not to jostle her, he laid back in the grass, tucking his free arm behind his head. She nestled comfortably against him, one hand curled up on his chest. He knew his arm would eventually go numb, but he didn't care.

She wanted to stay. It was a miracle, something for which he would thank the gods every day. Past the treetops, he watched the clouds scud past, white and fluffy against the bright blue of the sky. The quiet music of the stream and her even breaths lulled him, and he closed his eyes.

It was several hours later when Hitomi blinked. Her nostrils were filled with Van's scent, still slightly smoky. Did I fall asleep? Well, I haven't slept much the past few nights. I guess the walk here tired me more than I thought. She realized they were lying on the grass, and shifted a little, to look up at him. He, too, had fallen asleep. She grinned and hitched herself up on her elbow, preparing to wake him. Before she could, he opened his eyes, awakened by her movement, and smiled up at her. "Feeling better?" he asked, sitting up and flexing the arm on which she'd lain.

She nodded as she stood. "Much, thank you." She felt herself redden slightly, looked away and said, "Sorry- I didn't mean to be such boring company." 

He climbed to his feet as well. "Hmmm, yes, well, we'll have to do something about that." She glanced back at his serious tone. His face, too, was solemn, and he looked at her steadily. She felt her blush deepen as he continued. "Politeness to royalty is extremely important- and comportment, and manners, and whatnot." Suddenly, he couldn't hold it anymore, and grinned at her, as her mouth dropped open in astonishment.

Recovering, she glared at him and poked him in the chest as she said in mock anger, "Look, mister, you'd better behave or I'll tickle you into the stream!" But he merely kept grinning at her and grabbed her finger.

"Oh, and how will you do that, my lady, if I do it to you first?"

She laughed. "All right, you win." She was unprepared when he tugged hard on her arm, and fell against him, startled.

"What's my prize?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

"Prize?" she repeated, staring into his eyes, a bit lost.

"Well, you said I won . . . . So, what's my prize?" He was still grinning at her foolishly.

"I don't know. What kind of prize would you like?" She played along, smiling. She'd never dreamed her serious Van had this . . . this utterly delightful teasing side. Or that he was ticklish . . . somehow, it seemed out of place. But she liked it.

"Hmmm. If you don't have a prize ready, I'll have to think about it. Can I claim it any time?" Releasing her, he looked up at the sky, glowing orange and red as the sun set. "We should go. Are you going to be all right going back?" he asked, concerned. "I mean, you seemed to be tired . . ."

"I think I'll be fine. I'll certainly sleep well tonight." A breeze kicked up, whipping strands of hair into her mouth. She pulled them out, and tucked them behind her ears. She'd have to find something with which to tie it back. "And yes, I suppose you can claim your prize anytime, as long as the prize itself is within reason."

As they walked out of the clearing, her hand crept into his, and their fingers twined together tightly.

Hitomi considered what Van had told her regarding her visions. Was I really dying? she wondered. Was I really trying to kill myself? No! I never gave up, no matter what my subconscious was doing to me.

That must be why I ached all the time, and why my head hurt so much. I don't hurt anymore. Does that mean that I'll start having visions again? If I use our link, to talk to Van, will I still have that backlash? Will I . . . have that black and white vision again? Lost in thought, she stumbled. Somewhat guiltily, she looked up into Van's worried eyes.

"This was too much for you," he said flatly. "Do you want to rest?"

She shook her head. "No, I was just thinking. We're almost there, anyway."

He looked doubtful, but nodded.

After supper, Hitomi crawled up to her room and collapsed on her pallet. When Van looked in on her a few minutes later, she was already asleep.

When she became aware of her surroundings again, it was very early. She sat up, completely and suddenly awake, with none of the usual yawning, stretching and groaning with which she usually greeted the morning. It was unusual enough to make her blink in surprise. She stood, and padded over to the shutters leading onto the balcony. The sun was only just beginning to think about rising. I wonder if I dare go for a run . . . She reached down for her sneakers, and teetered against the wall, losing her balance.

_The hands were black, somehow, in the blue Earthlight, though the arms were not. Then she recognized that the hands were so ingrained with soot and ash that they could not come clean. She watched as they struck a spark in the darkness, and then another. She saw the scars on the backs of the hands, the tufts of hair burned away on the forearms. There was a small pile of kindling- bits of cloth, dry leaves, small twigs- and the sparks fell on it. She tried to see who the hands belonged to; it was important- imperative- that she see the face. She forced herself to look around, and saw houses surrounded her. The smoldering pile of kindling was set against the wooden door and frame of a house . . . why?_

Hitomi realized that her cheek was cold, pressed against the stones of the floor. Slowly, moaning softly, she pushed herself off the floor and onto her knees. Her head throbbed in reaction for just a moment, and she laid it against the wall behind her, her eyes closed. Well, she thought distantly, I guess that answers the question about having visions . . . But was that something that had already happened, or would it happen tonight? She couldn't tell, not this time. Normally, her visions told the future, but she could not forget when she told Chid's fortune- the flashes she'd seen of a younger Allen and the blond woman who looked like Millerna, her sister Marlene. She had not understood them until much later.

She realized she was expecting the intense pains she had become used to at home. She was waiting for her head to start pounding, her body to ache. But there was nothing. She pulled on her shoes, climbed to her feet. I guess I am cured. Just like Grandmother said . . .

The wave of loneliness on the heels of that thought was so powerful she had to lean against the doorframe for support. Mom . . . Dad . . . Her vision forgotten, she concentrated on keeping the tears that suddenly filled her eyes from flowing. After a moment of fighting, she regained a shred of control. Numbly, she pushed herself away from the doorframe and stumbled to the landing. Somehow, she descended the ladder and wandered out of the castle, into the city. Stupid, she thought. Stupid to think I could just say goodbye and not miss them anymore . . . Yukari, you were so concerned about me . . . I would have tried to tell you about this . . . Her thoughts ran in circles of self-condemnation and sadness.

Sunlight reached into the shadows of Fanelia with its golden fingers. Slowly the city came awake. Merchants and tradesman, craftspeople and bargain hunters spilled out into the streets to do business. Hitomi walked aimlessly through the crowds, up one street and down another, staring at the ground. A few people noticed her- a thin girl of about average height, her sandy brown hair just brushing her shoulders, dressed in red and white boy's clothes. Her hands were clutching her upper arms as if she were cold, her eyes melancholy and lost. Fewer still connected her with the legendary seer from the Mystic Moon. After all, that girl had helped save Gaea. She was strong and brave, and certainly had no reason to be so forlorn . . .

Dry-eyed, Hitomi wandered for hours, lost in her memories of home. Instinctively, she avoided the busiest streets, choosing instead to walk alone. She was completely unaware of Van's emotions, concern escalating into worry and fear, surging through their link. She didn't even know he was searching for her until she heard his voice calling her name, not too far behind her. She finally stopped moving, slowly turned.

Van had been pursuing her for almost as long as she'd been gone. He'd woken early, and found her gone. No one had seen her leave. For one cold instant, he'd thought that she'd gone back to her family, to the Mystic Moon, that she'd lied . . . But he dismissed it. She had said she wanted to stay, she would not just leave him, not without saying anything. He took a deep breath, and started to look for her, using the pendant as a guide.

Now that he had found her, all of his worry immediately transmuted to anger. He strode up to her, fully intending to lecture her about roaming around the city alone. But he bit it back when he saw how she was standing, trying to make herself smaller, as if she wished to disappear. She was staring at him almost blindly, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. Her face broke his heart; it expressed every moment of her inner torment.

He put his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her. "I was worried about you," he said softly. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, and raised her hand to touch his, but said nothing.

Studying her intently, in the same tone, he asked, "Do you want to go back?"

Somehow, she knew he wasn't talking about the castle. At once, she shook her head and clasped his hand tightly. "No. I miss everyone on Earth, but I don't want to go back." Looking away from him, she finished, "I'm sorry I worried you. I just needed to . . . walk . . ."

He turned away, still holding her hand. "It's all right, I know you didn't. Let's go get some breakfast . . ." He realized she wasn't following, but was staring wide eyed at her surroundings.

"Van . . . where are we?" Quickly, her gaze came back to him. There was fear in her eyes now.

He frowned slightly at that. "We're right at the edge of the reconstruction, just one street over." He gestured. "Everything over there is almost done being rebuilt. Why?"

She closed her eyes. Yes, it was the same, all exactly the same. "He . . . he's going to set a fire here . . . near one of these buildings . . . in the door of one of the houses . . ."

"What?" He dropped her hand.

She opened her eyes again at his sharp tone, and cringed at his anger and disbelief. "I . . . I had a vision this morning . . . and I saw hands . . . black, burnt hands, setting a fire against one of the houses. I'm sure it was here . . . but it was night, and I could only see by the light of the Earth." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, inspecting the ground, feeling the weight of his glance. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "That's all I saw."

Without warning, she felt his hand brush against her cheek, and she looked up at him again in surprise. He was smiling, just a little. "Hitomi, you have just told me more about this . . . Dilandau in training . . . than we have been able to find out in three years. You have nothing to be sorry for." He stepped closer to her, so they were only inches apart. Because she seemed to need it so much, he put his arms around her and pulled her to him. He meant to comfort her, and was unprepared when she pressed hard against him, her arms tight around his waist.

Their embrace lasted only a moment, and they stepped apart, startled by a noise in one of the alleys. Van took her hand again, still smiling, and started to lead her back to the castle. She looked behind for one moment, wondering what could have caused the sound, but saw nothing. Turning back, she increased her pace to keep up with Van's long-legged stride.

For Hitomi, it was a long, tiring, but ultimately satisfying day. Not for the first time, she begged Merle to let her help, to do something. Finally, Merle sighed in exasperation and eyed her. "Fine! You can help. Come on." Grabbing her hand, she led Hitomi to the kitchen.

The castle kitchen was, perforce, a large, warm, bustling place. The ovens and hearths had suffered little damage, made of brick and stone. Crude tables and shelves had been constructed immediately upon the Fanelians' return, and served well enough. The head cook was delighted upon hearing that soon she would be receiving much more suitable items. Work was all but completed in the city. Indeed, the last few homes were all but completed, and the only new construction was a warehouse or two, paid for by merchants. Van had kept his vow. The castle, in truth, needed little in the way of actual reconstruction, except for the towers, but it did require furnishings and amenities.

It also needed a thorough cleaning. Merle led Hitomi to cauldrons of hot water on one of the ovens, and thrust a smaller bucket at her. "Fill it, and we'll go scrub some floors and walls. Everything upstairs is still covered with soot." Merle filled her own pail and picked up a cake of harsh floor soap, made of the Gaean equivalent of lye, Hitomi guessed. She trudged after the cat-girl, trying to keep the water from sloshing over and scalding her. Getting the heavy buckets up to the landing without spilling too much was another chore.

Merle preceded her down the hall, past the rooms she and Van used, and around the bend. The corridor had recently been swept, but as Merle said, the walls were still black with the after-effects of the conflagration. "No, not here," the younger girl called when Hitomi would have stopped. "We'll do that some other time. We'll have enough to do here. I've started, but the smoke must have been really thick. There was a lot of heavy furniture in here . . ." She stepped through an empty door. There was nothing to distinguish this room from any other.

That is, until Hitomi followed her into the room. When she did, something hit her. Hard and fast and thick, memories and images crowded her mind. She reeled against the stone wall, and fought to breathe. Intense unhappiness warred with profound joy. She strove to clear her head. "Merle," she croaked hoarsely. "Whose room was this?" With an effort, she forced herself to drive away the feelings invading her.

"These were Lord Goau and Lady Varie's chambers. The king's chambers." Merle looked around, a bit sorrowfully. "I can only remember this as a sad place. Lady Varie was so unhappy after Lord Folken . . ." She swiped at her furry cheeks, and finally looked back at Hitomi, surprised to find tears in the other girl's eyes as well. "Do you feel it too?"

"Van . . . Van spent a lot of time here, too, didn't he?" she asked softly. Van stoically trying to hold back his little boy tears, Van crying in his loneliness; those were the images that she still saw clearly. "He came here . . . to remember when his whole family was together . . ."

Merle nodded. "I'm sorry, Hitomi. I should have realized . . . We can go somewhere else, if it hurts you . . ."

She shook her head. "No, I'm all right now. At first, all at once, it was a bit overwhelming. Where were you cleaning?"

"In here." She guided Hitomi to the right, through the bedroom, into the bathing room. The ceramic tiles on the floor had shattered, but Merle had swept the dust into a corner. The walls were utterly black, except where the cat-girl had started cleaning the far wall. There was a sunken area in the middle of the floor, slightly longer than Hitomi was tall, and about as deep as her knees.

Looking around, Hitomi inquired, "It was really bad in here, wasn't it?"

Merle nodded. "But not as bad as Lord Goau's study. He had so many books in there . . . the ceiling must have soot a foot deep." She plunged the soap into her bucket and rubbed it with a stiff bristled cleaning brush. "Well, we'd better get started." She began scrubbing the wall, where she'd made some progress before. Hitomi knelt at another wall to do the same.

Van located them there much later- several trips down the ladder for clean water later. It was growing dark out, but they hadn't even noticed. He leaned against the doorframe and watched them, unaware of his smile. They had managed to clean all four walls up as high as they could reach. The uppermost parts of the walls and the ceiling would have to wait for a ladder or a long-handled brush. He watched Hitomi stretch her back, arms over her head, on her toes, bosom thrust forward, and swallowed convulsively. She did . . . things to him, things he couldn't identify, things that created a sort of . . . longing in him. Like when she kissed him with her tongue only yesterday- it had created a longing in him then . . .

"Are you hungry, Hitomi?" Merle asked. She was sitting on the floor, legs sprawled, stretching as well. She hadn't noticed Van yet.

"Famished. Let's go eat." She completed her stretch and turned to the door, stopping short when she saw him.

"Lord Van!" Merle scrambled to her feet and bounded over to him, then pecked him on the cheek as if in passing. "Where's our supper?" she whined, seeing he did not hold any bowls or food. "We worked hard today!"

Van arched an eyebrow. "You worked hard? But you didn't even finish one little room! I'm not sure that you deserve supper," he said in a very serious tone.

Merle stared at him, openmouthed. Behind her, Hitomi had a very hard time trying not to laugh. She could see the grin quirking at the corner of his mouth, and had to cover her own with her hand.

"You . . . you would not let us eat supper? Just because . . ." Then she, too, saw the smile threatening to break over his face, and she yowled. "You jerk!" She attacked him, beating his arms with her small fists.

He cowered under the assault. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please, Lady Merle, please don't beat me!" he begged through his laughter, covering his head with his arms.

Of course, that left his sides open, which he suddenly realized when Hitomi stepped next to him and said, "No, Merle, do this." She started tickling him, utterly without mercy. Merle watched, wide eyed, as Van writhed, laughing uncontrollably, and squirming to get away from the other girl. Then she grinned and joined in.

Within moments, everyone was tickling whomever they could reach. They collapsed breathlessly to the floor, half in the bathing room and half out. "Two against one . . . no fair . . ." Van panted.

Hitomi was still giggling, unable to speak. Merle replied, "Sure it is . . . you're bigger . . . than we are . . ." Someone had managed to ruffle the short fur on her arms, so she smoothed it back down again.

Van recovered his breath. "Yes, Lady Merle, of course you're right. I managed to save some bread and a bit of some of the roasted hen before it was all consumed. Unless someone has taken it, it's waiting for you in your room." He smiled at her as she clambered to her feet and dashed away. To Hitomi, who had finally managed to regain her composure, he said, "Merle loves having roast hen. It's her favorite. Didn't you two notice how late it is? It's long past the meal time . . ."

He was a bit surprised when she leaned against him. "So, you saved her some. Meaning you do intend to let us eat, after all . . ." she laughed softly.

His arms came around her of their own accord. "Well, maybe just Merle," he teased. "I don't know what you like, so I couldn't save you anything . . ."

"Right now, if it's edible, I'll eat it. I might even consider some inedible things."

"Piscus?"

There was a long silence. Then, "Which category does that fall in?" she asked curiously.

He laughed, then stood. Deprived of her support, she fell to the floor and pouted up at him. He easily pulled her to her feet. He pulled so hard that she fell against him. Maybe it wasn't that, he thought as she snuggled against him. Maybe . . . it was just because she wanted to. He enjoyed the embrace for a moment, the feel of her against him, even liking that indescribable longing it caused. Then he said, "I thought you were hungry."

She shifted so she could look up at him. "I am, but you haven't said if you're going to let me eat or not."

"Yes, my love, I do intend to let you eat." He blushed as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but she hugged him tightly and his embarrassment faded. "I left our meal in my room. Come on." A little reluctantly, he unwound her arms from around him, but kept hold of her hand.

It was fully dark when they finished eating. He ignored the Mystic Moon as it rose with its silver companion. An idea had struck him while eating, and he was trying to decide how he wanted to broach the subject. A gentle breeze wafted through the window, ruffling Hitomi's hair. She perched in the window, staring at the sky. He sat on his blankets, discarding one method after another, growing more uncomfortable as she looked at her home world.

Finally, he could stand it no more, and went to stand beside her. "Hitomi . . . I . . ." When she glanced up at him, her eyes shining in the moonlight, he nearly lost his nerve. He steeled himself and plunged ahead. "I've decided what I'd like my prize to be. I think it's a reasonable request . . ."

She smiled and swung her legs out of the window, so she could face him. "Good! What is this 'reasonable request'?" she asked, a little mischievously. "And if you say to never tickle you again, I'll tell you right now, that's not very reasonable at all!" She grinned, but it slowly faded as she felt his solemn air.

The light from Earth illuminated his face, showed her the lopsided smile he wore. "No, that isn't it. The prize I'd like is . . . just your honest answers to my next two questions. That's all."

"That's all?" She frowned slightly as he looked away. Why was he so . . . tense? Where had all the fun fled? "You're right, that's very reasonable. What are your questions?" She took his hand, squeezed it gently.

He took a deep breath, forced himself to look at her steadily. "The first is . . . Are you sure you can be happy here, so far from your family?" Before she could interrupt, he shook his head, raising his free hand. "No, don't answer yet. The second is . . ." He swallowed hard, trying to clear the sudden block in his throat, but still the words only came in a whisper. "Would you be my wife?"

Hitomi felt her astonishment register on her face. She could make no sound but a gasp.

He heard her sudden intake of breath, but could not see her expression. Closing his eyes, he continued doggedly. "I . . . Since you left, I've felt less than alive. I was only really alive when you were here. You were . . . you are everything to me, the other half of my heart. I love you, and if you can truly be happy here, I want you to stay with me always."

Abruptly, he felt her warm fingers cover his lips. He opened his eyes again, and looked into her face, but he could still see nothing, with the light behind her. As she stood, her hand drifted to cup his cheek, stroking it softly. He was unmoving, confused by her silence, her actions.

He couldn't see her tears, she knew, or her smile. She had never thought she could be so happy. Before he could speak again, retract it, regret it, she reached up to kiss him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was not a long kiss, not a passionate kiss, but nevertheless, it was filled with every ounce of her feeling for him. She felt his hands come to rest on her hips as she ended it, pulling back only slightly to whisper against his lips. "Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers?" She hugged him to her tightly and murmured against his ear, "Yes, yes, a million times yes!"

Yes! For an instant, he was frozen in wonder. As it started to sink in, he returned her embrace, burying his face in her hair. Suddenly, rapture burst through him, as strong and bright as the blaze of the summer sun, and he couldn't contain it any longer. He swung her around and around in his arms, grinning like a madman as she shrieked and laughed and held him. He didn't stop until they were both dizzy. Breathing heavily, they leaned against each other for a long moment before he bent to kiss her again. Bathed in the moonlight, in their shared joy, it was an instant they hoped would last forever.

Author's Note: Well, you knew it had to happen sooner or later. Did I not tell you that I am an avid (and I do mean AVID) Van and Hitomi fan? Let me know what you think . . . 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own the twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. In this chapter, I own many, many people, who I am not going to name specifically here.

Re-Visions 

Chapter 12

Even a city as new as Fanelia rebuilt has a less than picturesque side. In fact, respectable citizens had long shunned the southwestern section, a few streets beyond the main gate, even before the city had been razed. No matter what Van tried, the dregs still drifted to this spot. At least (in his defense) these dregs were few in number.

There were two streets in this section called the 'Traveler's Hell'; named so because many travelers from other countries would end up there, unaware of the lurking danger. Sometimes, these unwary journeyers would end up dead, killed by a thief, or at the very least robbed and beaten. It didn't happen very often, but it still did happen. Few were ever caught or punished for their crimes.

Deep in Traveler's Hell was an inn and tavern, incongruously named the Traveler's Haven. Despite the newness, there lingered an odor of soured ale, of unwashed bodies. The floor had shone with fresh lacquer for about an hour, before being covered with refuse and spilt brew. Acrid smoke hung heavy in the air, as the men lazing about puffed on rolled weeds for the pleasing effects. This night was no different from any other in the false haven.

Into the squalor strode a tall man wearing a long, dark cloak, the hood of which shadowed his face. The cloak tented curiously behind him, and when he spun at a hail from a familiar voice, all could see that a long sword caused it. He spotted the man who had called him, and stalked over to his table by the windows, well removed from the few who lingered in the alehouse at this late hour.

The new arrival slid into the chair opposite the other man and growled, "You are such a fool! I've told you time and again to not draw attention!"

The other man rubbed his hands nervously. He was short, not terribly slim, but despite his girth, he was quick and agile. His features were coarse, blunt, his eyes a watery indeterminate color. He wore a heavy cap on his head, even on this warm night, to hide and protect the smooth pate beneath. His age, like his eye color, was unknown, and his conscience, like his hair, was non-existent. He kept looking down at his hands, as if to make sure they were still attached. The backs were pink and shiny, the hair all burnt away. His palms were dark, black, from running his hands over the flames he so loved. Candle flickers to the burning of Fanelia, they were all his ladies, his loves. He loved it when the flames licked at his fingers; he called it the sweet caress. The ladies had caressed him so much, he could hardly feel it anymore. As long as the fingers still worked, though, as long as they could still appreciate the fire, he would be content.

But he was too upset now to think of that. "I can't, lord," he said in a low voice, watching as his fingers twitched of their own accord. "I can't set it tonight."

The hooded man sighed. "Why not, Daj'n?" he asked quietly.

Daj'n leaned across the table. "Because she knows! The bloody wench from the Mystic Moon! She was there, this morning, when I went to find the best house. She was talking to some kid with black hair, and she said, 'I had a vision,' so I knew it was her!" 

Again, a soft question from the hooded man. "So, even though I have paid you for this, you will not do it?"

"She told that kid, damnit!" Daj'n hissed. "Who's to say who is waiting for me? Who he might have told? I think she even heard me in the alley . . ."

"She didn't see you, did she?" There was a sprinkle of fear in the other's tone now, but Daj'n didn't notice, too caught up in his own worries.

"No, no, I ducked back in time, she didn't see me." He scratched at his heavily whiskered jowls. "Gods know who else that little witch has told . . ."

Within the depths of his hood, the man smiled. "Well," he said, not bothering to hide his amusement. "I suppose it's safe to say she told the king . . ."

"The king?" Daj'n stared at him openmouthed, and his face paled. "You mean . . . that kid is the king?" His fingers began to twitch again.

"Indeed." The man seemed to dismiss it. "Now, Daj'n. Are you sure you're not going to set it tonight?"

"The king! She told the king! I am a dead man!"

"Stop it!" The man reached across the table to grab his tunic, and shook him. "Get a hold of yourself." He flung the smaller man back down into his chair and sat back himself. "Yes, she told the king. The king told his council. If his orders were followed, there should be a squadron of samurai surrounding that area tonight."

The firebug's eyes bulged. "And . . . you still want me to do it?"

The man laughed, a hollow sound. "If his orders were followed, I said. I know there will be no guards there tonight. So go do it, or am I going to have to persuade you, as I did after that carpenter was killed?"

Daj'n shuddered. He hadn't wanted to kill that family, but he hadn't known they were there. He'd only heard about their deaths the next day, and it had frightened him a little. He'd been appalled at the feeling of power and satisfaction the knowledge had given him. He had refused the hooded man's urgings, requests and orders for a moon afterwards. He'd spent the month alternately roaring drunk and hungover. He still ached from the beating he'd gotten last sevenday, and didn't care to repeat the . . . persuasion. He stared fixedly at the table. "All right. But not tonight . . . tomorrow night. I still need to find the best place to set it, so it doesn't spread. I have to do that during the day. If you hadn't said only one house at a time, it'd be easier." He sighed when the other nodded.

"Very good, Daj'n. A few extra coins for your trouble." He threw a couple pieces of silver onto the table. They rang once and disappeared. Satisfied, he prepared to go.

"My lord?" Daj'n finally got the courage to ask what had been troubling him. "My lord, why? Why are you burning Fanelia down piecemeal like this? Shouldn't you . . . be glad that . . ."

The backhanded fist surprised him. It was delivered with sufficient force to knock his considerable weight from the chair. Stunned, Daj'n only had time to blink before the hooded man was straddling him, hands on his collar again, but squeezing his throat this time. Immediately, the noise surrounding them died away, and every man was staring at them, even the alekeep.

"You are an idiot." Every word the hooded man spoke was clearly enunciated in a tone that everyone heard in the silence. "I have my reasons, and you will never question me again. Is that understood?" When Daj'n was silent, he applied a little more pressure. "Is that understood?"

Eyes starting from their sockets, face red, Daj'n nodded frantically, banging his own head against the floor. Slowly, the large hands withdrew, as if reluctant to let him go. The other man straightened. "Be sure my orders are carried out." With that, he swept out of the tavern, his sword clanking. For a long moment, everyone stared at Daj'n as he lay gasping for air. When he arose and looked around, however, all had returned to their previous conversations. Rubbing his throat, he resumed his seat, and stared at his twitching hands.

Tomorrow . . . tomorrow, his lady would burn again . . .

***

Van awoke instantly at the strange sensation. It didn't feel threatening, but it still brought him awake. He had not been a heavy sleeper, and during the war, he had trained himself to become awake and aware at the slightest need. Now, it was hard to stop it. He forced himself to continue breathing deeply, forced himself to keep his body relaxed. He had been sleeping on his side, on his hard pallet, and stared at the opposite wall as he quickly took stock.

Yes, someone had curled up behind him, spooning him. An arm snaked across his waist, brushing his bare skin. It squeezed him a little bit, a quick hug, then laid unmoving.

Merle had stopped sneaking into his room long ago, and she had never done this, anyway. She usually curled up at his feet, if she didn't wake him up by hugging the life out of him. But the other option was almost too incredible to believe. "Hitomi?" he inquired softly.

"I'm sorry, Van," she whispered against his back. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Is something wrong?" he asked, when she said nothing further, her hand tracing circles on his stomach. Part of him wanted her to stop, as it distracted him, and part of him . . . 

Her fingers stilled, flattening against his skin. "I couldn't sleep . . . I was thinking about what you said . . . and I guess . . . I'm a little scared." He felt her bury her face against his back.

He rolled over to face her then, making sure that the light blanket covering him stayed up over his hips. She was laying on it, so it was no easy task. At least she was clothed, he thought, resting one hand on her side. Hopefully, no one will walk by this late. "Hitomi, you have nothing to be scared of," he said, his hand moving to stroke her back. 

She shimmied down until she could rest her head against his chest, his arm about her shoulders now. "It's just . . . I get nervous around people I don't know. Especially people who hold as much power as your council . . ."

He snorted. "What about me? I am the king, after all!"

She muffled her laugh against his chest. "That's different. I know you. I trust you . . ." Her voice quavered a bit.

Frowning in the dark, he leaned back to look at her. She was merely a shadow in the night. "You haven't met them yet. How can you think you won't be able to trust them? They're just people; they're not going to eat you. Really, they're very nice . . ."

"That's just it. I don't know. But when you said we had to meet with them and tell them, I felt a chill come over me. I'm not sure if it was a warning or if it was just nerves. I'm hoping it was just nerves." She hugged him tightly. "But I kept thinking about it, I couldn't stop- and I couldn't sleep. So I thought that . . ." She stopped, feeling her cheeks heat.

He smiled, knowing she couldn't see it. "You thought what?"

She sighed. "I thought that . . . maybe if I was with you, I would feel less scared, and then I could go to sleep. I always feel safe when I'm with you."

"Good." He held her closer for a moment, then sighed in turn. "And as much as I'd like to protect you through the night . . . you can't stay here now."

She stiffened in his arms. After a long silence, in a small voice, she asked, "Why?"

"There's this stupid law that Fanelian kings and princes have been trying to get repealed forever. It says that the king, or future king, may not marry any woman with whom he . . . well," Van blushed, and he was glad that she couldn't see it in the darkness. " . . . he has . . . uh . . . relations before his marriage."

Silence. "But . . . we're not having . . . 'relations'," she reminded him.

If you stay here much longer we might. The thought shocked him, and he swiftly erased it from his mind. Instead, he said, "We know that. But if you were to stay the night, someone else would assume that we are. I want you to be my wife too much for that to happen. Please."

A sudden thought struck her and she asked a bit fearfully, "Does . . . does this law mean that we can't spend any time together before we are married?"

He chuckled. "No. But it does mean that we would have to be chaperoned, at the very least, or else be around a group of other people."

"How many kings have tried to revoke this?" she asked with some heat. "And why haven't they?"

"All of them. And it's protected by some clause of another law. It's supposed to ensure that all of Fanelia's queens are pure."

"Queen," she repeated thoughtfully, her fingers tracing circles on him again. "I hadn't thought of that. I'm not sure I want to be a queen. I just want to be your wife."

He was so distracted by her touch that he almost missed her words. When they did register, he smiled. "Unfortunately, you can't be one without the other." He caught her hand and held it, preventing it from doing anything further to his person. "I know this will seem a little harsh, but it's something that you'll have to get used to. I had to, and I had been expecting it since I was five years old."

She nodded. "I know." She still made no move to leave.

"Hitomi, don't worry about tomorrow. They'll be so glad that I'm not fighting marriage that they'll welcome you with open arms. There are only four of them. That's not so terrible. A full council would be six or eight more people."

"You're right." She sat up, as his arms fell away from her. "I'm sorry I woke you, but I'm glad you let me." Her hand found his and she clasped it tightly. "Can I still kiss you? Or does that law prevent it?"

"It's supposed to prevent us being alone together, where we might get into 'mischief'." He grinned. "We can still kiss. In fact," his voice grew soft and a bit husky. "I will probably be in great need of your kisses . . ."

Before he finished speaking, she captured his face with her hands and kissed him deeply. Her hair tickled his cheeks. She pushed him onto his back, to get a better angle for his mouth. He felt her tongue flick against his lips, and he willingly opened them. His hands spread over her narrow back, pulling her closer, his resolve crumbling as he tasted her.

When she finally pulled back, amazed by her own aggression, they were both gasping for air. He moved his hands to her upper arms, but did not push her away. "I . . . I think that we'd better not do that again," he whispered. "I like it too much."

She laughed softly and kissed him again, gently this time. "Me too. Good night, Van." With one last caress for his cheek, she climbed to her feet and padded out of his room.

Van stared at the ceiling for many minutes after she left, not sure whether or not to curse that law. As he lay there, it came as rather a shock to him when he realized he wanted her almost as much as he loved her. The feel of her body, pressed against him, had sparked his memory of his father's advisors, instructing him in Fanelian law so long ago. But he would never dishonor Hitomi by asking her to lay with him before they were wed. Even if he had lost himself in the moment, as he so nearly had, the mere thought of spending his life without her would bring him sharply back to reality. If asked the question, he would have to respond with the truth, as would she. They were both unable to lie.

Reluctantly, he decided it was probably a good thing that damn law existed. But acknowledging that didn't make sleep return any sooner.

Although she felt better after talking to Van, sleep did not come easily to Hitomi either. Thoughts were buzzing incessantly in her head, and she could close her eyes only for a moment at a time. About daybreak, she gave up the pretense and decided today she would run before Van arose. She put on the clothes she'd wheedled out of Merle for running. They were more of Van's castoffs; a loose sleeveless shirt, about the size he'd worn during the war, and a pair of pants, so worn that she'd cut off the legs and used the excess material to patch the other pair. They were threadbare and shiny on the seat. She hoped they'd hold together a little longer.

She had not taken five strides before she realized again, as she had just days ago, how out of practice she was. The spots did not start dancing in front of her eyes until after she had completed 100 meters. She stopped, panting, and waited for them to clear. Warning me not to push myself, she thought. If I don't push myself, I won't get any better than I am right now. I still get tired too easily. I know I'm still recovering from all that I did to myself, unconsciously or not.

After a few minutes, the spots stopped flashing and she started to walk back, dreamily looking forward to a hot shower. She caught herself doing it and groaned softly. I've got to get used to it, she thought. That is something else Gaea doesn't have- no CD players, no television, not hot showers. I have a lot to get used to . . .

But it does have Van. That's something I could never get used to being without at home, no matter what conveniences surrounded me. She grinned as she climbed up the ladder. It was still early enough that there was no one about. I can at least take a quick dip in the river and get rid of the sweat . . . and wash the clothes I wore yesterday. She straightened her blankets and grabbed her clothes, before returning outside.

Merle had shown her a quiet place where the women from the castle bathed. Quickly, she shucked off her sweaty clothes and immersed herself in the water. Immediately, her teeth started to chatter. Cold! she thought, as she had the previous time. Well, it is mountain run-off, she reminded herself. What do you expect? She got out after a few more moments, when she really started shivering. She brushed the water off her arms and legs as best she could, but still didn't feel dry enough to dress. She began to soak her other clothes, and realized she'd forgotten soap. "Way to go, Kanzaki," she muttered, disgusted with herself. Well, nothing for it now but to just let the water wash away what it could. She draped the wet clothes over some nearby branches, then dressed in her own shirt and jeans. Still feeling a bit chilled from her bath, she pulled on her sweatshirt as well, and found a place to sit in the sunlight. The sun was well risen by now, and the air was just starting to warm. After only a few minutes, she found herself getting drowsy, and laid back on the grass. Van will come get me . . . was her last thought as she fell asleep.

The meeting was set for midmorning. Van was about ready to start pulling his hair out. Why does she do this to me? he wondered angrily, pacing around her room. It is almost time, and she's gone. She'd better not be wandering around the city again.

He heard a noise in the corridor. "Hitomi?" he called, and looked out the door. He was surprised to see Merle's pink head. She had taken a scrap of cloth and tied her hair back into a tail, as Hitomi had worn hers yesterday.

"Lord Van? Is Hitomi there?" she asked brightly, trying to peer around him.

"No, she's not." He scowled for a moment. "We have to be at my council meeting in just a little while." He stepped back into the room, allowing her to enter as well.

"Why?" She watched his face, and knew the answer when the scowl softened into a small smile. Before he opened his mouth, she squealed and swarmed all over him, hugging him tightly. "Lord Van, you did it! That's wonderful! Congratulations!" She kissed him chastely on the cheek. "When?"

Puzzled, he replied, "Last night . . ."

He was startled when she whacked him lightly on his arm. "Not that, you big twit! When are you getting married?"

Taken aback, he rubbed his arm absently. "I don't know. Whenever we want." Then he grinned at her. "Soon, I hope."

Merle laughed. "Well, that's more important than helping me clean. If she wants to help when you two are done, I'll be in your parents' rooms. I've finally got a long handled brush away from Gerean's crew, from downstairs." She started to leave, and over her shoulder continued, "She might have gone to do laundry. Your clothes she was wearing got really dirty yesterday. All covered with ash." She grabbed the prized brush, leaning outside by the door, and was gone. 

Van cursed himself for a lovesick fool and hurried to the castle gate.

It was only a few minutes later that he found her, sleeping peacefully in a bright patch of sun. It made her sandy hair shine with highlights he'd never noticed before, almost golden in color. His anger was forgotten as he knelt beside her. She looks so tired, he thought, reaching out to shake her. I wonder if she slept at all last night.

The only response his gentle shake evoked was a groan. A slightly harder one caused her to put one arm over her eyes and mutter, "Please, Mom, just a few more minutes . . ." He laughed at that and watched as she sat up, blinking at him.

"Good morning, love," he said, still grinning. "Are you ready?"

Memory came rushing back, and she groaned again, running her hands through her hair. "We're not late, are we?" she asked, climbing to her feet and grabbing still damp clothes from where they hung.

"No, not yet. We still have a little time." He stood and took hold of her arm as she reached for the other shirt. "Don't I even get a 'good morning'?" he asked with mock petulance, drawing her into his arms. The wet clothes were pressed to his chest, but he didn't mind.

Smiling up at him, she stretched to give him a brief kiss. "Good morning," she said softly, pulling away. "Was that better?"

"Much." He smiled back at her, then released her. "If we hurry, we'll even be a little early."

Pausing only to let Hitomi dash up the ladder with her damp clothes, they ran to the council chamber. "They're already here," Van said quietly, peering in. "They've been asking about you, your health, since I told them you'd returned. They may want to ask you some questions." He caught sight of her nod, and turned to look at her. Her face was completely white. "Hitomi," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders, looking into her anxious eyes. "This will be all right. Don't let them intimidate you. They're not monsters."

Her smile was shaky, but she nodded again. "I'll try." She took a deep breath. "I told you I get nervous . . ."

"There's only four of them," he reminded her. Lowering his voice, he continued, "And really, Kenet- Captain Tesk, of the samurai- doesn't carry as much weight as the other three. They were councilors under my father. Kenet only became a captain after Fanelia started to rebuild. He wants to be a general, but I don't think he can compare with Balgus." He grinned down at her. "You'll have to tell me what you think later."

"Not many people can compare with Balgus," she replied, with a bit of reverence in her tone for the slain general. "And thank you for distracting me."

He tucked one of her hands into the crook of his elbow, then smirked at her wondering expression. "I did have to learn etiquette, you know," he told her, amused. "I just was never very good at it." She giggled, and then he entered the council chamber, shortening his long stride to allow her to walk beside him.

There had been a quiet conversation in the council chamber, but it died away as the king made his appearance . . . and accompanied by a girl! There was rather a stunned quality to the following silence, as Van drew Hitomi over to the small circle of crates.

Hitomi quickly took in the three figures that rose at Van's approach. A blond man with stooped shoulders, a tall, brown haired man with a beard, and an older woman with silver hair and a cane. At one of the open windows, on the far side of the room, she could see a dark figure, with black hair, but he had his back to them, as if ignoring them. Her attention was brought back as Van started to speak.

"Lords and Lady, may I present to you Hitomi Kanzaki, the Seer from the Mystic Moon." There was a murmur of greeting, and Hitomi made a deep curtsey, awkward as it was to do so in jeans. "Hitomi, my council. Robero Jor." The blond man bowed. "Tavin Gare." A brief nod from the bearded man. "Avengine Fanel, my distant cousin," he added by way of explanation as the woman smiled graciously and nodded. Glancing around, he saw the figure at the window. "Captain!" he snapped. The figure jerked and half-turned. "If you would be so good as to join us." His tone was sharp, and Hitomi was disconcerted. From what he'd said before, she thought Van liked the captain of his samurai, and only doubted his ability.

"Before we begin today's meeting, I have one thing to say." Van took a deep breath, and Hitomi realized with some amusement that he was nervous as well, not as she was, for he knew these people, but regarding the announcement itself. She squeezed his arm. "Hitomi has done me the great honor of agreeing to become my wife and queen." His voice carried through the silence. Each of his advisors stared at him in varying degrees of disbelief, except one.

Lady Avengine wore a knowing smile, and hobbled over to take Hitomi's hand. "My congratulations, Lady Hitomi," she said, her voice strong though her body was frail. "I wish you and my young cousin every happiness." Her eyes twinkled at them.

Hitomi smiled and pressed her hand in return. "Thank you, Lady Avengine," she replied softly, making every effort not to trip over the unfamiliar name.

"And you!" She lifted her cane to tap Van's chest. "I knew just where your mind was, every meeting we've had for the past moon. Good lad," she chuckled huskily, patting his cheek. Van blushed, but said nothing.

Hesitantly, the other councilors moved forward to congratulate their king. Hitomi kept her eyes away from the captain of the samurai deliberately, concerned about the malice she felt, and it seemed to be coming from him . . .

To her credit, when Tesk finally spoke, she betrayed no reaction, though his voice scared her nearly to death.

"My lord, what spell has she cast upon you?" His voice was deep, scornful. "Or perhaps there is no spell, for she surely is not much of a Seer. She did not foretell the fire two mornings ago, and the fire she predicted for this morn did not occur. Where are the vaunted powers of the Seer of the Mystic Moon? What say you, my lady?"

Suddenly, as Tesk was speaking, Van felt little shivers of fear, beneath the anger the other's words had aroused in him. The fear was Hitomi's, he realized, as he felt her fingers clench his arm in a tourniquet-like grip. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her, her face pale, with a small spot of pink in her cheek. Her eyes were wide, and she was staring at Tesk, in what appeared to be dread. At the back of his mind, he heard her voice, whispering, _Ken . . . ji?_ A bewildering series of images flashed through his head, punctuated by her remembered fear.

Taking what little courage she felt she had, Hitomi released Van's arm and stepped forward. She spoke quietly, though her tone was firm. "Captain, I did not ask for my powers, and they are not under my control. I do not have visions all the time, nor can I evoke them at will. If, by warning Van of what I saw yesterday, I helped stop that vision from becoming reality, I am grateful that some good has come from my sight."

She could feel Van's concern for her, his pride in her, and it lent strength to her trembling knees. "And as for spells . . . I know none. I am not a witch. I am merely a girl, an ordinary girl from Earth, though extraordinary things have happened to me." Her voice rose a bit. "I love Van- I love your king- enough to give my life for him. How can you hate me for that? How can you . . ." Without warning, her knees buckled, her mouth an O of astonishment as she fell.

Van caught her before she could tumble all the way to the floor. He eased her down, frightened for her now. "Hitomi?" She was shivering in his arms, her eyes wide and a glassy green. Her mouth formed soundless words, and her arms twitched, as if she would reach out. She was having a vision, he knew. He could sense nothing from her, though. She had closed their link before the vision came upon her. Her breathing was growing harsh, as if she were suffocating in her mind.

"Sire?" Jor knelt beside him, troubled.

"She's having a vision," Van said tightly. A bad one, he added silently, staring into her sightless eyes with something akin to despair.

"Is there any way to snap her out of it?" Lady Avengine peered over Jor's shoulder. "Move over, Rob," she grumbled in irritation. Obligingly, Robero shifted so she could study the girl more closely.

Van shook his head. "I don't think so. She usually comes out of them herself." Almost as if she heard his words, she whispered, "No . . ." in a tone filled with fear and desperation, and blinked. Van was relieved to see she was herself again, but only for a moment. No sooner had she focused on him and smiled than her eyes rolled back in her head, and she went limp in his arms.

A sardonic voice spoke into the hush. "Well, she pitches a good fit." Kenet Tesk folded his arms across his breastplate, staring at Hitomi in disdain. Tavin Gare stood near him, dark brow furrowed.

Still cradling her, Van turned to glare at the samurai. His eyes glowed red in his rage. How he wanted to thrash the insolent man! But I can't leave her, he thought, not right now. "Get out," he growled. "Before I do something you'll regret."

Tesk snorted, but sauntered toward the door. "Who will regret it?" he muttered under his breath, too low for Van to hear.

Van scooped Hitomi up into his arms and stood. "I'm taking her to Sari."

"My lord." Robero climbed to his feet as he spoke. "We do have something of great importance to discuss with you, aside from your announcement."

Van paused, frowning. "Can't it wait until tomorrow?" He looked down at Hitomi. Even unconscious, her face was troubled. He wanted to know what caused her such distress.

"No, my lord." With a groan, Lady Avengine slowly lowered herself to sit on a crate. "We received . . . an ultimatum this morning, from our firebug."

He was silent a moment, fighting a brief internal battle. I hope she will understand. My people come first. "All right. I'll be back in a little while."

He had hardly reached the door when a sentry blocked it, breathless from his run from the city wall. "Sire," he gasped, oblivious to the woman in Van's arms. "Airship circling . . . make as Asturian . . . signaling for landing . . . near castle . . . how to respond? Can't . . . can't find Captain Tesk . . ." He braced his hands on his knees, panting.

"Direct them to land outside the city walls. If the ship's captain has a problem with that, tell him to talk to me later, after I conclude my council meeting." He strode off, leaving the guard gaping after him.

It's Asturian? Allen, he thought, glancing down at Hitomi again. Allen. He will not take you from me . . . 

An odd thought struck him. _It never rains but it pours._


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own this twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. In this chapter, I own many, many people, who I am not going to name specifically here.

Re-Visions 

Chapter 13

_It was hot. Stiflingly hot, chokingly hot. She could hear the crackle, the hungry roar of fire all around her. The smoke was thick, filling her lungs, making it even more difficult for her to breathe. Gasping for air, she dropped to her knees, trying to get below the smoke. It billowed about her as she vainly looked around. She could tell she was inside a building of some kind, a large, empty building. It seemed there was no one around. Then she heard the unmistakable clash of swords. Who would be so foolish as to fight in a burning building? she wondered, staggering to her feet. Slowly, she made her way in the direction of the sound. Steel clanged again, and she thought she heard a muffled curse. Through the smoke, she imagined she saw movement. She took another step and saw Van, sword drawn. Why was he fighting in this inferno? She tried to call out to him, but choked and gagged. He was coughing even as he fought. His opponent was a man slightly taller than he, with broad shoulders. His back was to her, though, and she could tell no more. Their blades rang out yet again. The other man was coughing now as well, as they circled around each other. Fiery timbers fell all about them, one narrowly missing Van's opponent. As he leapt out of the way, she saw his face._

It was Goau, Van's father, his lip curled in a sneer of hate.

Another beam fell from the roof and struck Van a glancing blow, knocking him down. She reached for him, to try to wake him, but could not. She was too far away. She watched in horror as the demonic Goau advanced, his sword ready. "No!" she shrieked. "NO! Van, get up! Please, Van, get up!" Even the roar of the flames faded away. She watched Goau raise his sword, and bring it whistling down

"No!"

It was only a whisper in her ears, and she blinked. Van's beautiful mahogany eyes were staring at her, filled with worry. He was all right . . . Suddenly, darkness claimed her.

She drifted for a long time, aware, but not aware. The darkness moved with her, rippling almost in time with her breathing. There was a presence, warm and comforting, though it was only with her a short while.

Eventually, she started to wonder if she was lost in a vision. She was not in her body- she felt completely weightless. She was, in fact, floating through the void. She closed her eyes, waiting for fear to take hold of her.

When she opened them again, she was laying on her bed, in her own room.

"No!" she gasped, sitting upright. But it was her room. Her pictures stood on the dresser, her books on the desk, her clothes in the closet. She swung her legs off the bed, staring around in disbelief. How can I be here? I decided to stay with Van! Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, and walked over to her dresser. There was her favorite picture, of Yukari and Amano, taken not too long before Amano had left with his family. She had taken it without their knowledge. Yukari was leaning back against Amano's chest. His arms were around her, her hands resting on his. They were looking at something out of the range of the camera, smiling. Hitomi reached to pick it up, and her hand passed right through it. She realized then that her body was transparent, as she held up her hand to study it. The wave of relief she felt was so overwhelming that she nearly fell to her knees. I'm not really here; this must just be a vision. I'm really still on Gaea, with Van.

Suddenly, she thought she heard something, and turned toward the door. It was still slightly ajar, as she had left it, though she knew her parents must have been in here since then. A faint sound drifted in. Unwillingly, she moved toward the door, half floating, half walking. She passed through the door with no ill effects. Yes, the noise was louder now, and it sounded like . . . someone was crying.

Hitomi stopped at the head of the stairs, struck by a horrible realization. This . . . this is almost like that black and white vision . . . But all my stuff was still in my room! Everything had been taken away in the vision. Why is it different now?

The weeping drew her down the stairs, forced her down each step. It got slightly louder when she reached the bottom, but she still couldn't figure out who it was. She knew that he or she would be in the living room. More of her own volition now, she willed herself to the entrance to the living room. Distantly, she noticed that she did not cast a shadow. Well, she thought, I'm not really here. I don't have a body . . . She paused in the doorway to the bright room, unsure if she wanted to know, after all.

At her first glance, she was surprised. Despite the sobbing, the room looked empty. Drawn in now in spite of herself, she finally saw the back of her mother's head, just over the back of the sofa. It looked like she was kneeling or sitting on the floor, between the sofa and the coffee table. "Mom?" Hitomi asked, forgetting that she might not be able to hear. "What are you doing?" She walked around the end of the sofa and stopped in shock.

Hitomi knew she'd only been gone a month, certainly not much more. But to look at her mother, it might have been years. Her face was streaked with tears, the lines around her eyes and mouth carved deeper in her grief. Her hands trembled as she held a picture frame, setting it to rattling. Her hair had been brown, with a few strands of grey- now it seemed to be mostly grey. "Mom? Are you all right?" She knelt beside her mother, and reached out to touch her shaking arm, but refrained when she saw the grain of the carpet through her hand.

Slowly, incredulously, Mrs. Kanzaki turned. "I'm losing my mind," she whispered. "I keep thinking . . . and now I can hear your voice . . ." Her eyes widened when she saw her daughter's concerned face. "Hitomi! You're here! You've come back . . ." The picture, of Hitomi, her mother and her grandmother, dropped from her numb fingers, to the thick carpet, which thankfully cushioned its fall. One hand crept up to cover her mouth, and she stared. "Oh, Hitomi, why did you run away? We've been so worried about you!" She reached out to embrace Hitomi, not even noticing that the wall behind her was clearly visible through her.

"Mom, don't. You can't touch me. I . . . I'm not really here." Hitomi drew back, away from her mother. She'd never seen her like this before. Her calm, dependable mother was nearly hysterical.

"Not really . . . Hitomi, what . . ." Then she saw her transparency. "Oh," she whispered, hands falling to her knees. "Oh, you're dead, you're a ghost . . . I am crazy . . . I can't believe it." Tears leaked from her closed eyes again, and she shook her head in denial. "No, no, it can't be!" she wailed.

Hitomi felt herself start to cry in response to her mother's distress. "No, Mom! No, I'm not dead. I'm alive and safe . . . I'm just . . . not here . . ." Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she asked, "Mom, did Grandmother ever tell you about . . . Gaea?" She watched as the older woman nodded. "Well, I've been there, too. Three years ago, a pillar of light took me away . . ."

It took a long while, but she told her mother the whole story, telling her what Van had said about her powers, blushing a little as she recounted how much she was in love with Van. Earnestly, she said, "Please, Mom, please understand. I know it's hard. It was so hard for me to decide, because I love you all so much, you and Dad and Ichiro and Yukari and my friends. I know there will be days when I'm going to want to ask you something, or want to talk to Yukari, or just want to be around my family. It will always be hard. But I love Van, too. I need to be with him. I'm complete with him, somehow. I'm sorry."

Mrs. Kanzaki wiped at her cheeks. "Hitomi, why didn't you tell me before?" she asked, her tone a little accusing.

Hitomi looked at her hands, folded nervously in her lap. "I was afraid you wouldn't understand," she replied softly. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right." She stared at her daughter, drinking in the sight of her as a man parched by the sun would water. "But now . . ."

Hitomi felt something tug at her, drawing her away. "Now- I think I have to go. But don't worry, Mom. I will be all right. I'll try to let you know how we are, from time to time, if I can." The world was wavering about her, growing indistinct as the pull became more insistent. "I love you, Mom." The darkness was creeping, following the watery edge of her vision.

Very faintly, as her mother shimmered away, Hitomi heard her say, "I love you, too, daughter." There was a muffled laugh. " . . . grandchildren!" Then there was only the blackness that moved as she breathed.

But not for long. The demand was stronger the closer she got. She closed her eyes on the void, pulsing around her, and felt her body once more. She settled into it gingerly, getting used to it again before opening her eyes.

***

Though he was eager to hear what the pyro's ultimatum was, Van could only listen with half an ear. The rest of his attention was alternately fixed on Hitomi and what the Asturian airship might mean.

"Captain Tesk brought this to us this morning," Lady Avengine said, smoothing out a crumpled screw of paper. "One of the guards at the castle gate found it, when the sun rose." She handed the flattened paper to Van.

The note read: _King Van, I have heard you are concerned about the fires I've been setting. Unfortunate, that. Give up your throne, like a good boy, and the fires will stop. Your polluted blood makes you unfit to hold Fanelia's throne. How many people must die, how many must suffer, before you realize it? Leave Fanelia and let a king fit to rule take your place. And take that witch from the Mystic Moon with you, if you like her so much. If you will not, starting tonight, watch your city burn one home at a time, and despair._ Of course, it was unsigned.

Van fought down the fury the words evoked in him, and forced himself to read it again. Frowning, he studied the curiously formed, stilted letters. He could not get rid of the nagging feeling that, despite the attempt to disguise it, he knew the hand that had written the note.

"Sire?"

Van looked up, startled, and realized he'd been muttering the word "Bastard," over and over. He cleared his throat, embarrassed, and said, "Sorry."

"Well, my lord? What are your thoughts?" Robero Jor asked, calmly enough, but Van could see his hands folding and unfolding restlessly.

"I will not- I cannot- do as he demands," Van replied simply. "My parents and my brother left me with a duty to this country, to the people who live here. I am not going to just abandon it on the urgings of this . . . madman." He longed to use stronger words, but restrained himself somehow.

"Of course not. We did not expect you would." Lady Avengine studied him closely. "However, we are now left with the remainder of his threat- to burn the city down. How can we prevent him from carrying it out?"

Gare cleared his throat. "Guards . . ."

Van waved his hand. "We've been trying to find this pyromaniac for years, and he's managed to elude us, no matter how many guards we put out on the streets. More guards are not the answer." He crossed his arms and stared fixedly at the floor. "There must be something else . . ."

But what? he wondered. What is this man, that he can do this, and not leave a trace? How can he evade so many troops, patrolling the streets? If we hadn't decided on extra patrols, it might be understandable . . .

He was broken from his reverie by a voice echoing through the council room. "Lord Van." A sentry called from the doorway. Rather than make the man yell, Van rose and crossed to him. "The captain of the airship . . . he wishes to speak to you immediately. I tried to tell him you were in council, but he would not listen. I ran ahead to warn you, but he's right behind me . . ."

Van sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Did you happen to get his name?"

The guard shook his head. "No, I . . ."

"I didn't give it to him." Striding up the corridor toward them was the familiar figure of Allen Schezar. The three years since the end of the war had changed him but little. Perhaps his hair was a little longer, his face a little older, perhaps his eyes were a bit sadder. But over it all, he still wore his Knight Caeli uniform, and that quiet air of confidence that others often mistook for smug superiority.

At his appearance, Van stiffened almost imperceptibly, then coerced a smile. "Allen. You look well." He reached out to clasp the other's hand. "It's good to see you again."

Allen smiled in return, and returned Van's handshake. He was not surprised at Van's tense reaction to his arrival, though a bit saddened. I knew he could hold a grudge, Allen thought. Look at how he acted around his brother, when Folken defected from Zaibach- like he was still the enemy. Inwardly, he sighed. Well, I can't say that I blame him. I knew he loved Hitomi before he did, and I still pursued her . . .

He blinked and brought himself back to the present, just as Van asked, "What brings you here? Is there something going on in Asturia? We haven't had much news . . ."

Actually, Van," Allen said cautiously, as if feeling his way. "It's the news from Fanelia that interests me . . ."

Van stared at him for a moment, considering. "I see," he replied steadily. Then he turned to the guard, still standing by uneasily. "Please, go to Captain Tesk's second in command, and have him join us here as soon as possible."

"Not . . . not the captain himself, Sire?" His voice was nervous.

"No. Captain Tesk managed to create a scene earlier, and we do not wish him to return. At least not until I can see him without wanting to knock him out." He muttered the last under his breath as the guard bowed and trotted away. Allen hid his grin behind one gloved hand. Van eyed him again, and said, "We're right in the middle of council now. But if you wouldn't mind waiting, then I can discuss the 'news' from Fanelia. You can even join us if you like." Without waiting for Allen's reply, or even to see if the other would follow, he reentered the council chamber.

There had been a short, rather pointless discussion among the three that remained. They fell silent as Van returned. He introduced Allen to them, and informed them of the summons he had sent. It was only a few minutes later that Tesk's lieutenant stumbled in, a tall, narrow, unshaven man of about Allen's age. He was polishing his insignia and buttoning his coat even as he dashed in. He looked up and stopped, his eyes wide, as he saw his king glaring at him. He swallowed convulsively, Adam's apple bobbing, and stood at attention.

"Lieutenant . . . Taris, isn't it?"

The lieutenant nodded and swallowed again. "Yes, my lord," he managed.

Van stood and walked around the sweating soldier. "Since you are in such a state," he began in a deceptively smooth tone of voice, "you must have been asleep. If you were asleep at such a late hour, you must have been on patrol last night. I would like to hear about what happened on that patrol, Lieutenant." He waited expectantly, just in front of Taris.

"My . . . my lord?" Taris stuttered in confusion.

"Now, Lieutenant!" Van barked.

Allen tried to make himself invisible, leaning casually against the wall. He was certain the boy had not, in fact, been on patrol last night, and fairly sure Van knew it, too. He was much more interested in how Van would handle the situation.

He'd heard rumors, blown out of proportion, perhaps, by the time they reached the rebuilt fort on the swamp. There were some of a pyromaniac, setting fire to the city of Fanelia piece by piece. Other rumors said it was Dilandau, still seeking revenge on Fanelia's king. Still others said that Fanelia had been burnt to the ground again. But it was the newest rumor, unconnected with any of the others, that had brought him here.

"My lord, I only get sent out on special patrols . . . or when there aren't enough men to fill all the guard posts. There were no special patrols last night." Taris licked his lips and risked a glance at his king, then wished he hadn't.

There was a deep silence in the chamber for the span of three heartbeats, five.

Very quietly, Van asked, "When was the last time there were special patrols?" His fingers twitched on the hilt of his sword, unnoticed by any but Allen.

"It has been perhaps three sevendays," Taris whispered. "There have been only the regular night squads."

He was doing an admirable job of containing his temper, Allen noted dispassionately. A few years ago, he would have been vowing to kill someone by now.

With a calm he did not feel, Van turned to his advisors. "My lords, my lady, I believe we may have found the power, the ultimatum, behind our firebug." Whirling back around, he snapped, "Lieutenant!"

"Sire?" Taris stared straight ahead.

"Go, arrest Kenet Tesk and bring him to me. Immediately."

Deep within his soul, Taris quivered with dread, but he saluted and ran from the room. He felt that the king had just signed his death sentence.

No one dared speak as Van paced. Within moments, a great hue and cry was raised in the courtyard, and all could hear the heavy pounding of booted feet.

Finally, Allen coughed. "He's gone, you realize."

Van clenched his fist, and said nothing. He knew Allen was right.

Several long, painful minutes went by before Lieutenant Taris returned. He knelt, breathing heavily, and said, "Sire, I regret to report that Captain Tesk cannot be found within the castle. Shall I sent out parties to search the city?"

"No."

Gasps arose from the advisors behind him. Before anyone could say anything intelligible, thought, Van held up his hand. "After the midday meal, send a squadron down into the city, to a place I will direct you. Stay there until you are relieved, and watch for anyone doing anything suspicious. I believe that's where the firebug will strike next. Arrest anyone doing anything out of the ordinary, especially after nightfall."

"I see what you are after, Sire." Lady Avengine smiled. "Lull him into thinking that we are not concerned with him, and spring the trap where your lady had her vision." She nodded. Her sharp eyes caught Allen's jump of surprise.

"Catching him in the act, I hope," Van concluded. "Until we have him, then, there's nothing left to discuss." His tone was firm with finality. Taking the none too subtle hint, his councilors departed.

Allen stood up straight, abandoning his casual pose. "The rumors were true, then, weren't they?" he asked quietly.

"Depends on which you mean," Van replied evasively. He was fairly sure he didn't want to have this conversation with Allen, at least not now. Perhaps later, when the marriage had already taken place . . . No, that wasn't fair. Better to face it now. Nevertheless, he still walked quickly to the door.

Allen's legs were as long as his, and he could keep up with the younger man easily. "Hitomi has returned, hasn't she? The rumor was that a column of light, like the one that had taken her home, had reappeared, not once, but twice, here in Fanelia." He kept his tone low, even as he dogged Van through the castle. "You went to bring her back. Judging from what your cousin said, you have asked her to marry."

Van said nothing. Finally, Allen could take it no more, and grabbed his arm, jerking him to a halt. "Damn it, Van, answer me." His voice was rough with emotion, but still low. "I have a right to know."

"What right?" He didn't look at the knight, and even to himself, he sounded distant. Try to feel nothing, he told himself.

Allen released him. "The right of a friend," he said simply. "She is my friend."

Van glanced at him, startled. Well, he thought, as long as it doesn't go further than that. "Yes, she has come back, and she has agreed to marry me." Despite his anger and uncertainty, a shiver of joy shot through him at the words.

They were in the corridor outside the infirmary. Van tapped at the door. It opened a crack, and he saw Sari's amber eye peer out at him, then it opened fully. "Sire." She stood back, and he entered, Allen close at his heels. "She has not woken yet."

Van had already gone to stand beside Hitomi's cot. Her face still carried that troubled expression, and when he touched her cheek, it was damp with tears.

"What happened?" Allen asked in hushed tones. He had followed Van, and stood, staring down at Hitomi.

"She had a vision, perhaps an hour ago, while we were in council. Sari, are you sure she hasn't woken? She's been crying."

"I have been within earshot since you brought her here," the healer replied somewhat stiffly. "I would have heard if she had stirred at all."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I was just surprised. Her face is wet." Carefully, he sat next to her on the cot.

"She had a vision?" Allen prompted, still studying her. She's so thin, he thought, even thinner than she was years ago.

"Yes. Then, she just fainted." He took her hand, and reached out along their bond, to nudge her awake with his feelings. Then he started to get scared, for he could not sense her. She simply was not there. There was only blackness.

Has she gotten lost in another vision? he wondered. Trying to keep the fear from his voice, he spoke her name. "Hitomi? Hitomi, come back now, love." With his free hand, he stroked her face again, and called to her in his mind.

Even as he did, suddenly, to his profound relief, she was back, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked at him for a second, then reached up to rest her hand on his, and smiled. "Van," she whispered. "You're all right."

The worry on his handsome features eased. To her, he was the best thing to wake up to. Having done it twice already today, she decided that she wanted to spend the rest of her life doing it.

He grinned at her, and she felt her cheeks turn pink, as she realized that their link was open. He'd heard her thought. But she kept smiling. After all, it was only the truth. She heard a discreet cough, and some shuffling of feet. Van's smile melted away, and his face set into no expression at all. As puzzling as that was, it was much more distressing to her that he simply withdrew from the link, with no explanation. She could still sense him, of course, but he would not respond to her. He'd walled off his feelings.

"Hitomi, Allen is here." Van rose to his feet and helped her sit up.

In an instant, she understood, and she could have cheerfully killed Allen on the spot. Not that Van was any better. In a tone loaded with as much exasperation as she could muster, she told him silently, _Don't be such an idiot. I love you, not Allen._ Without waiting for his reaction, she smiled up at the knight and said, "It's great to see you again, Allen."

Quick as thought, he lifted her hand where it lay on her lap and raised it to his lips. He just barely brushed his lips against the back, staring into her green eyes all the while. "And you as well, Hitomi," he murmured, caressing her with his voice.

As gently as possible, she disentangled her hand. She knew he couldn't help it- Allen naturally tried to charm every woman he met, even those who had rejected him. But she could sense that Van was smoldering beside her, and wisely wanted to forestall an explosion. "Allen," she said mildly. "Would you want Van doing that to your fiancée?" She glanced mischievously up at Van, and could see the smile now quirking at the corner of his mouth. "Or didn't Van tell you?"

Allen realized that he had rather taken for granted that Hitomi would succumb to his charisma, and that he should probably consider himself lucky that Van hadn't thrown him out on his ass. Trying to salvage some dignity, he bowed formally and replied, "Indeed, he did. My sincere wishes for your happiness, your Majesty, my lady."

"Thank you," she answered graciously. She saw Sari standing at the foot of her cot, smiling at her indulgently. "I feel fine, now, Sari," she said. "Would it be all right if we left?"

"Yes, yes, go on, my lords, my lady. No need to be cluttering up my sickroom if you needn't be." Allen and Van stood back to let Hitomi stand, and they all headed for the door. Allen was a few steps in front, and didn't notice when Sari laid her hand on Hitomi's arm. "I knew that I was going to have to call you 'my lady'," she whispered, looking significantly at Van. He blushed, and Hitomi had to smother a giggle with her hand.

Van brought them back to the council room, filling Hitomi in on all that had happened since her vision had carried her away. The words of the note left her pale and amazed. She'd known before that there were those who hated her, on her previous sojourn. But this seemed so much more personal.

Sinking down onto a crate, she said, almost inaudibly, "The fire . . ."

"What fire?" Allen stared at her strangely, but Van was silent.

Lifting one hand to her forehead, she said, "All the fires that have been set- they've been leading up to this. But I think that I have forced his hand. Because he knows that I've started having visions about the fires, he thinks that I might be able to stop him. He hasn't had time yet to convince everyone that it's your fault, Van. So instead . . ." She took a deep shuddering breath. "Instead . . . he'll try to kill you, and blame it on the fire. I saw it . . . except in my vision, he was your father." She covered her face with her hands.

"My father?" Van echoed, stunned.

Allen rubbed his chin with one finger. "In a way, that does make sense. Your father was the last 'true' king of Fanelia, in this fanatic's eyes. So he may see himself as Goau, as the avenging spirit of Fanelia."

"He won't avenge anything," Van stated flatly. "I am the rightful king of this country, by blood and by the Rite." He sat next to Hitomi on her crate, and put an arm around her. Immediately, she turned to him, burying her face against his shoulder. "He won't hurt you." He spoke into her hair, just loud enough for her to hear. "I promise."

"I'm more worried about you," she replied, her voice muffled against his body. Her arms twined around him. "He's after you, not me." She sat back, and he was a bit surprised to see that her eyes were dry, though they glittered brightly. A bitter, self- mocking smile twisted her lips. "I want . . . oh, I want so badly to make you promise to stay here, to not go looking for him . . . But I can't," she said, as he took a breath to protest. "I can't ask that of you, because it would hurt you to keep it. But you . . ." Her voice broke, and she bit her lip, fighting for control over the wild fear she felt. "Please, just promise me you'll be careful, and that you'll come back," she whispered, holding tightly to his hand.

He gave her a squeeze. "I will."

Allen had moved away, over to one of the windows, to give them privacy. He stood, looking out at the city and the mountains, sneaking glances at the couple from time to time. He could hear them talking softly for a short while, and then there was only silence. When he peeked at them, Hitomi was leaning against Van again, and he was stroking her back and hair. Somehow, watching their embrace made Allen feel like a voyeur, it was so private, so intimate, and he quickly turned away. The breeze caused a few long strands of his hair to wave about his face, tickling him. He forced it back, and tied it with a bit of cloth he kept for that purpose. He lost himself in contemplation of the shades of green on the mountainside.

"Allen." Van called his name very softly. He jumped and turned, finding Van hand managed to creep up on him soundlessly. Looking over the younger man's shoulder, he saw Hitomi had fallen asleep. Van had carefully laid her on the floor by the crate on which they had been sitting.

Seeing the direction of his gaze, Van said, "She didn't sleep at all last night. She was nervous about meeting my advisors, and she's still recovering."

His eyes flew back to Van. "Recovering from what?" he asked, concerned.

He did not reply, but stepped closer, and looked out the window. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. I didn't want to do this, he thought, closing his eyes. "Allen, I need to ask . . . a favor of you." He opened his eyes, but could not look at the knight as he spoke. "If, by some chance, I am killed, as she saw in her vision, I . . . I want you to take care of Hitomi." His voice was pitched so low as to be nearly inaudible. "Support her in whatever she wants to do . . . and let her know I'm sorry, and I . . . I love her. Please." He finally looked at the other then, and found Allen staring at him in surprise.

"She already knows that," Allen replied. "But I will." Now he was unable to look at Van. "Thank you for your trust. I know what this cost you."

Van nodded curtly, and turned away. "I have to go, I have to show Taris where Hitomi had her vision, and I'm going to stay until we capture Tesk, and whoever else is involved. And . . . thank you." With that, he strode out of the chamber.

Allen left the window to consider Hitomi as she slept. He understood that she hadn't been sleeping before, in the infirmary. Her face was relaxed into a slight smile now. Before, it had been a mask of concentration. He sat on one of the crates.

As the sun traveled slowly westward, shortening and lengthening the shadows in the bare room, Allen found that being alone with one's thoughts can be very unpleasant indeed.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own this twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. In this chapter, I own many people, who I am not going to name specifically here.

Re-Visions 

Chapter 14

Hitomi woke to a rumbling hunger in her stomach. When her eyes focused, she saw a steaming bowl of stew on the floor in front of her, with bread and fruit arranged on a napkin nearby. She pushed herself upright and looked around, a bit dismayed. Allen was sitting across from her, but Van was gone. The shadows were long and thick in the otherwise empty room.

"Van wouldn't say from what," Allen spoke quietly, but it still startled her. "But he did say you were recovering from something. You should eat, to keep up your strength."

"Thank you." Hesitantly, she picked up the bowl and a hunk of bread. "I'm sorry about sleeping the day away on you. I guess I still don't have my full strength back yet." She blew across a spoonful of stew to cool it.

"Don't worry. I wasn't offended," he smiled, taking a bite of bread.

She stared into her bowl. She wished she knew some way to check the level of her power. She wanted . . . she needed to make sure Van was safe. She was sure, though, that the vision, or out of body experience, with her mother must have taken a lot of power. She was a bit frightened to test how much she had left.

Are you more scared for him or for yourself? she asked herself severely. Do you love him or not?

"Hitomi, are you all right?" The concern in Allen's voice was unmistakable.

She realized that she'd been dipping her spoon into the stew, stirring it, playing with it, and had not yet taken a bite. She started shoveling it in, to avoid conversation, the stew having cooled enough to eat, though she felt the first bite scald her tongue a little. "I'm fine," she managed around a mouthful.

She was nearly done when she finally recognized how uncomfortable she felt around Allen, and it was partly because of how uneasy he felt around her. She stared blankly into her empty bowl again, for a long time, searching for the answers. I never thought beyond Van, she thought. I never honestly thought about what I would do if I came back and saw Allen again. I only thought about Van. I never meant to hurt Allen- I really thought I loved him. She set the bowl aside and ran her hands through her hair. I couldn't distinguish between a crush and love until I had experienced both. I hurt him. I hurt both of them, one because I couldn't figure myself out, and one because I did.

"I'm sorry, Allen," she whispered, when she couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"You said that already." Allen frowned at her, puzzled. "And I said . . ."

"I don't mean about that. I mean about before, in Palas."

"Oh." He looked away, into the deepening shadows. He felt his fingers moving of themselves, and glanced down to see they were crumbling the last bit of his bread. He brushed the crumbs into his bowl and put it on the floor. He couldn't stop himself from asking, "Why?"

"I . . . I never meant to hurt you." She forced herself to look at him, his blond hair gleaming dimly in the twilight. "It's not that I meant to lead you on . . . I was so confused. I truly thought I loved you . . ." She closed her eyes, fighting the tears. "I hope you don't hate me. I wouldn't blame you if you did, but I hope you don't."

She opened her eyes with a start when she felt his hand on her shoulder. He was kneeling in front of her, blue eyes peering earnestly into her face in the fading light. "Hitomi, please stop," he said, his voice gentle. "I don't hate you. You are my friend. I care about you. I love you like I love my sister. I know you didn't want to hurt my feelings, but you couldn't help how you felt. Love is not always with who you chose, or who you think you want, but it's always right." His hand touched her face for an instant. "It's all right, Hitomi. Please don't feel bad about it, any of it." He essayed a smile, which she returned, albeit tremulously. Hesitantly, he put his arms around her, unsure how she would respond, but she embraced him as well, leaning her head against his shoulder. It lasted only for a moment, and they pulled away from each other.

"Thank you," she said softly, brushing his cheek with a kiss.

He swung around to sit beside her. They sat in silence for a long while. Hitomi tried to keep herself from worrying about Van again, but she could not take her mind off him. She wondered at the danger he was in. Stop it, she ordered herself firmly. He is an excellent swordsman, well able to defend himself. He is strong and brave and . . .

"He is probably surrounded by guards, Hitomi. He'll be safe." Allen spoke as if he could read her mind. Not that it would be difficult right now, she reasoned wryly.

She sighed. "I know. I can't help it." She drew up her knees, and wrapped her arms around them. "Talk to me, please. Help me take my mind off everything. Tell me about your sister, your fort, anything . . ."

Allen glanced out the nearest window. Evening was creeping up. The sun had set, and darkness filled the room. He stood and she looked up at him, surprised. "All right. But we're going to have to find a few torches or something. I'm not going to sit here in the dark. This will take a while. You need to tell me what has happened to you, too."

She put out her hand, and he helped her to her feet. "Merle might be able to help us," she said, dusting the seat of her jeans. "She knows where just about everything is. When we tell her where Van is, she'll probably want to stay up with us, too."

"Stay up?" They headed for the council chamber doorway, a dim outline.

Hitomi nodded. "Yes," she affirmed. "Until Van is safely home."

***

The light touch on his shoulder roused Van. He had been dozing lightly, resting, so as to be sharp tonight. The sunlight was nearly gone, but he could still make out Lieutenant Taris crouching next to him. It was he who had woken him up. Slowly, he knew the resting half of the squadron would be waking as well.

Much to Taris' relief, Van had taken command, once the samurai had reached the street where Hitomi had told him of her vision. He had split up the group so that there were a few members in each of the nearby businesses and houses, though that caused no small amount of consternation among the inhabitants. He even ordered some to hide in the alleys and pretend to be indigents or drunkards.

He'd told Taris to wake him at once if anything suspicious happened. Otherwise, he would take the night watch. Even though he already knew the answer, Van asked, "Did anything happen?"

"No, Sire. I saw nothing. All of our own men are out of sight, and now, there aren't many people out and about." They had a good vantage point, the empty top floor of a business, which would eventually hold stock for the store below. There were windows that offered views on most of what Van wished to see.

"Sire, are you sure you want to start your watch now? I'm good for a few hours yet." 

Van nodded, and stood. "Yes. Try to rest, Lieutenant. If I start to fall asleep, I'll wake you then, or if we get lucky."

Taris nodded and sat, his back to the wall. "Very good, my lord." He was asleep within moments, his head sunk onto his chest. Van stared at him in the dim light, mouth slightly open in surprise. Then he shook his head and took an unobtrusive post in one of the windows.

It was hard not to think of Hitomi, but he forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. He didn't dare open the link to her, to see how she was; he needed to keep his wits about him, and she had proven that she could easily distract him. He didn't want to feel her fear for him, though he knew she couldn't help it.

The hours dragged by. More than once, Van had to stop himself from pacing, as it might wake up Taris. Then he reflected wryly that the lieutenant could probably sleep through just about anything. To keep himself alert, he walked softly from window to window, not that much was visible in the darkness. He spent a few minutes at each, inspecting the view, and moved on. The bright moonlight was his friend once more, illuminating the street below, yet causing strange shadows.

It was close on midnight when Van noticed it. He was about to move to the next window when he thought he saw a furtive movement in the street, by the house opposite. He froze, and looked more closely, wanting to make sure it wasn't one of his own men. It would all be for naught if he moved too early. They might never catch him- the firebug or Tesk- if that happened. There was a flash, bright and strong, then another, close to the ground. Before they faded away, Van had shaken Taris, hissing, "He's there! Follow me!" and was hurrying down the stairs as quietly as possible.

Daj'n took no pride in his work tonight. He regarded it as a rush job, and not at all elegant. He watched as the sparks from his flint fell on the small pile of kindling he'd set against the door of the house. The house itself was far enough from its neighbors that- as long as the night remained calm- none of the others would catch fire. Well, those are my orders, he thought, as the first orange flickers of flame took hold. "My lady," he crooned softly, starting to back away. "My beauty . . . " He reached the front of the opposite house, and ducked into the narrow alley between it and its neighbor, close enough to watch as the other house was consumed, and yet still able to make his escape.

That's when things started to go wrong.

A call rang out. "Fanelia! Fanelia!" That was the rallying cry for the army, Daj'n thought, amazed. As he watched, openmouthed, samurai started pouring from the surrounding houses and businesses, lights flickering in windows. He withdrew further into the alley, cursing his employer, the hooded man who paid him to do what he loved. This was a bloody trap! Some of the soldiers ran by the alley's mouth, mere inches from where he stood, and he shrank back.

In the sudden light of torches and lanterns, he saw a group of guards beginning to mill about. The voice that had given the cry directed some to put out the small blaze- killing it before it could live! Daj'n mourned. As the group began to move more decisively, he saw the source of the action. It was that boy, the king! He heard the king give orders to the larger group of men to thoroughly search the area. Daj'n lost what little nerve he possessed. I've got to get out . . .As he turned to flee, he ran into something. No, he realized, heart sinking. It was someone. Someone tall and broad, both known and unknown to him. The shaft of moonlight sneaking its way between the two buildings lit the face of a man unfamiliar to him. But when the man spoke, Daj'n knew.

It was him.

"Well, well, Daj'n, so we meet again." Quietly, amid the confused sounds out in the street, the tall man drew his sword.

"My lord," Daj'n squeaked. "My lord, I carried out your orders . . . please don't turn me over to the king!" He fell to his knees at the other's feet, whimpering.

"The king? The king is here?" Distracted for a moment, the man considered this information. An idea began to form. He'd originally intended to eliminate Daj'n as a threat to him, but now he could, perhaps, kill two birds with one stone. A movement in the darkness brought him back to reality. Daj'n was trying to inch away, trying to decide which was the worse danger to him- the man before him or the king behind. He'd obviously concluded that he might get mercy from the king, knowing all too well that there was none to be had from him.

"Tsk, tsk, Daj'n. You should have expected this. No sense running now." The blade flashed in the moonlight, then gleamed wetly. The man frowned, berating himself, as Daj'n screamed. It hadn't been a clean kill. As Daj'n had flinched at the last moment, the sword had not decapitated him, but merely bitten deep into his shoulder. The man took another step forward and swung again with considerable force, before the injured man could make another sound. There was the satisfying feel of his sword slicing deep into flesh again, right on through to the other side. He didn't even mind the spray of blood as he managed to behead his lackey this time. He knelt to search the dead man's pockets.

Van had directed most of the squad to split up and search. He had paused to make sure the remainder managed to stamp out the fledgling fire. He wanted to see no more burnt out homes, not now when they were so close . . . It was a simple task, as the fire had not really had time to take hold, a matter of seconds.

A scream pierced his hearing, from behind him, and he spun, staring for a moment at the alley from which it seemed to originate. With a curse, he shook himself and darted over. The remaining soldiers did not happen to see, though they heard. There was only one lantern remaining.

Van stopped short in the mouth of the alley. In the dappled moonlight, he could make out a man with broad shoulders kneeling over what appeared to be a body, holding up a bloodied sword. No, it was indeed a body, for there was the head, against the far wall. Drawing his sword, he shouted, "Stop! Drop your weapon!"

The man gave a start, and looked up. The moonlight lit his features again for a moment, letting Van see the shiver of stark fear that crossed them. Then the man's face relaxed into a smile as Van gasped in recognition.

"Tesk! It was you, after all." Van brought himself to the ready position, his sword poised threateningly. His order from seconds ago had brought a pair of soldiers to his back. They gaped at his words, at the sight of their blood-spattered captain crouching over a dead man.

"Surrender now. You cannot win, Tesk." Van eyed the older man warily. He heard the soldiers behind him move to grip their swords as the man rose to his feet, still clutching his own blade. "Drop your sword," he ordered.

"Surrender?" Tesk laughed. "To you?" His laughter took on a maniacal edge. Van gritted his teeth at the sound of it, but didn't move. "You are nothing but a whelp. Your tainted blood hardly makes you a king in which to take pride. You should have died in the Rite," he finished contemptuously.

"But I did not," Van growled. "I am your king. Drop your sword!" He hardly expected Tesk to obey the command, and was not surprised when the older man laughed again.

"Watch me burn the city down, Draconian!" he sneered, brandishing Daj'n's flint and tinder. "Watch Fanelia be cleansed by the flames! Watch as a king fit to rule takes your place!" He took a step back, and when Van advanced, he whirled and ran down the alley.

"You bastard!" Van yelled, leaping over the dead body to follow him.

***

The torch had almost guttered out, stuck in the wall sconce in Hitomi's room. Merle had finally fallen asleep, her tousled pink head pillowed in Hitomi's lap. Hitomi absently played with the cat girl's hair, staring out the open shutters to the balcony.

Allen, too, was asleep, or nearly so, leaning against the far wall, across from her. He was well out of the range of the fading torchlight, a golden topped shadow. He'd received word from his crew on the Crusade, asking if he was well, and might they disembark? Hitomi had sensed a much subtler humor at work than that of Gaddes or any of the others she'd met before, and said so. Allen had confirmed the presence of his sister Celena, but requested in his reply that they stay aboard. Hitomi found herself looking forward to meeting Celena, but, remembering her past as Dilandau, she wondered if Van would be as welcoming.

Van . . . She risked a glance at Allen, then closed her eyes. She didn't want to seem rude, but they had stopped talking when Merle fell asleep, not wanting to wake her. Allen had told his story, and she'd told most of her own. Hitomi could no longer stand not knowing, and opened the link she shared with Van. Power be damned, she thought, desperately. If I'm careful, he won't know I'm there . . .

The rage she felt from him frightened her; it was so strong, like a fire in his soul. It caught her up, carried her along, left her breathless.

She realized Van was breathless, too, running hard after a faint figure, barely visible in the night. He was twisting and turning through the streets and lanes, almost at random, Van just close enough to see the swirl of his cloak.

Suddenly, the buildings opened up around them, a great empty space at the edge of the city. Van stopped, glancing around, trying to quiet his harsh breathing. He thought he heard the clatter of footsteps, fading away ahead of him. He saw that there were a few buildings across the way, and to his left, on the very edge of this clearing. The warehouses, he thought, recalling the plan of his city, knowing that the space he was crossing was designated for yet another such structure.

Warehouses, warehouses . . . The word pounded in Hitomi's head, disrupting her concentration, forcing her to pull out of contact, before he became aware of her presence. As she blinked at the starry sky outside the shutters, back in herself again, it continued to beat. Warehouses! Oh, no! She groaned, and tried to shift Merle off her legs without waking her. The empty building in her vision, on fire, it was a warehouse! She had to get to Van, had to save him . . .

"Hitomi?" Allen had not been quite asleep after all. He was staring at her, as she climbed to her feet. Merle's head now rested on her sweatshirt. Hitomi did not answer him, but slipped quickly from the room.

Muttering a choice curse, he stood and followed. He caught up with her just as she reached the landing. "Hitomi!" he hissed, grabbing her wrist. "What are you doing?"

She struggled with him, and he was shocked to see the fear in her face. He released her immediately. She backed away, looking at him uneasily. "What's the matter?" he asked, feeling as though he'd destroyed the fragile understanding they'd reached earlier.

Hitomi had inexplicably been drawn into the past at the feel of Allen's strong fingers closing about her wrist. For an instant, he'd been Kenji, intending to kiss her . . . Ever since she'd seen Kenet Tesk that morning, she had been thinking of Kenji. They looked so much alike, though the captain was so much older than her schoolmate. They even had the same cold . . . aura, she guessed was the right word. She shook herself out of her thoughts, and focused on Allen's question.

"I'm going to help Van. He's in trouble. If I don't . . . He'll die if I don't go!" She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Don't stop me, Allen." She turned to climb down the ladder.

"I won't, but I'm coming with you." His tone brooked no argument.

She glanced up, from about five rungs down. "Merle!" she remembered. "Go get Merle, she'll panic if she wakes up alone!" Allen stared at her in distrust for a moment. "I'll wait," she said. Reluctantly, he nodded, and hurried back to her room. Without hesitation, or a twinge of guilt, she slid down the rest of the ladder, ignoring the splinters this earned her. Reaching the bottom, she ran to the main entryway, through the courtyard and out the castle gate. Ignoring the stitch that soon began in her side, ignoring the spots that started floating in front of her eyes, she pushed herself, stretching her limbs to their utmost, fairly flying into the city. She thought she knew where the warehouses were, but no matter what, she had to find Van!

***

Van heard a door creak open, and ran toward the noise, just ahead of him. The door of the warehouse stood open. From within, amplified by the emptiness, he could hear the rustle of Tesk's cloak as he moved within the darkness. As quietly as possible, still trying to get air to his starving lungs, he entered, wondering why the captain had chosen to flee here. It would be an easy matter to trap him. With any luck, some of the squadron would be arriving soon to help arrest him. He knew he'd left them far behind.

He left the frame of the doorway quickly, knowing that his silhouette might be able to be seen. The smell of freshly cut wood surrounded him. He took a step to his left, then another, listening intently. The movement had stopped, but he could still hear something, a faint clicking sound. Then he heard what he took to be the flare of a torch, and raised one hand to shield his eyes, expecting to see the light close by.

It was a good thing he had shaded his eyes, for the light was bright. If it was a single torch, it was ten. Peering out from between his fingers, Van saw a line of torches, slowly popping into life against the wall. Then, as his eyes became accustomed to the light, he saw they were far too low for torches; it was a line of fire at the base of the wall, the flames quickly licking up the boards.

He paused, unable to see Tesk, even in the glare of the fire. Slowly, he took his hand away from his eyes, replaced it on the hilt of his blade, his gaze darting here and there. This was the situation of which Hitomi had warned him. If he stayed, he would be caught in a sword fight in the midst of the blaze. The first small wisps of smoke started to drift through the building.

"Let a man fit to be king take your place, boy!" Tesk's voice echoed through the emptiness, as the crackling of the flames grew louder. Van spun in the direction of the voice. "Die in the flames, or die by my blade, but you will not be king on the morrow- **_I_** will!" Van stepped aside as the other man came charging from the shadows, where the light of the flames as yet hadn't reached. Recovering with amazing speed, Tesk whirled, to swing at Van again, somewhat wildly. Van parried it easily, but did not press his own attack. There followed a flurry of blows, under which Van chose to back away, studying his opponent's style, what there was of it. He was attacking almost blindly, with little finesse. Sooner than he expected, he felt the heat of the blaze against his back, and quickly ducked to the side, essaying a quick thrust of his own. Tesk met it, turned it aside, but it seemed to take him out of the frenzy he'd been in, and he stepped back a pace.

"Why do you hate me?" Van asked, recovering his breath. "What have I done that you would punish me by destroying my kingdom again?"

The older man was panting, but managed to gasp out, "You were . . . born . . . you cursed . . . half-breed . . ." He made no move to attack, perhaps glad for the respite. He was eyeing the ease with which Van held his sword, the way he carried himself.

Van twitched his shoulders, eyes never leaving Tesk. "So? You were born- I don't hate you for that reason alone." He feinted to his right, then attacked. The clang of their steel was lost in the increasing roar of the fire. As it climbed to the roof beams, the smoke grew thicker.

Tesk pushed Van back. "If you hadn't been born, I would be king now!" he spat. "This green land wouldn't suffer under your curse. Fanelia would be ruled by a true king!"

Van snorted, as they circled around each other. "You, a true king? And what makes you think you would be king, anyway?"

Tesk launched another assault, which Van beat back. Over the sound of the blaze, he called, "Would it not be my right as the only living son of Goau Fanel?"

***

She had to stop. There were more spots in her vision than vision itself. Hitomi rested her hands on her knees, gasping for breath, letting her sight clear. The night was warm and calm, and she was sweating from her run, but she still felt a shiver down her spine as she panted. "What was . . ." Not quite so starving for air, she sniffed. Yes, it was smoke. She groaned. If Van was fighting, she would only distract him if she tried to contact him now, and that could kill him. She stumbled back into a run, hoping she was heading in the right direction. His name pounded in her mind in time with her heartbeat. Van, she thought, please be safe . . . 

***

Merle had, in fact, panicked after Allen woke her up, but the panic was for another reason entirely.

"You left her there?" she screeched. "Are you insane? She's probably halfway through the city by now!" She flew by him on all fours.

"She said she'd wait!" Allen called after her, feeling a bit foolish. He broke into a run, following the cat girl.

"And you believed her?" Merle skidded to a stop on the landing. "See, she's gone," she reported, peeking over the edge into the torch-lit darkness below. "If it was me, with the man I love in danger, I'd probably do the same."

Allen felt like kicking himself. How could I not have seen through that tactic? he wondered bitterly. Celena pulls it on me every damn time.

"Well, come on!"

He blinked to see Merle swinging herself down the ladder. "What?" he asked, dazed.

"She's going to need our help, so we've got to follow her. If there aren't too many people around, I might be able to track her by scent. If you're not coming, I'll go alone!" This last was called up derisively, from her pose at the bottom.

"Wait, Merle! I'm coming!" As quickly as he could, he made his way down. Merle was already well ahead of him as he started running at the foot of the ladder.

***

Van narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about? My brother and I were the only sons of my father. I am his only living son."

Tesk sneered. "The only legitimate ones, to be sure, despite the fact he married that Draconian bitch."

Almost too softly to be heard over the crackle of the fire, Van warned, "I will tell you not to speak of my mother that way, and I will say it only once." His eyes began to water from the burning smoke and heat, and he coughed.

"Before your father married . . . that woman . . . he loved my mother."

"You are not my father's son." Though it could have been a wail of frantic denial, it was a mere statement of fact. Van knew in his soul that Kenet Tesk was not, as he claimed, his half brother.

"How else could I look so like him?" In the face of Van's disbelief, Tesk attacked fiercely, trying to drive the younger man back to the flames. But he was wild again, and Van neatly evaded every blow.

"I hate to break this to you," he panted, as Tesk fell back. "There are many men in Fanelia who might be my brother based on that argument!" Which was true. As a group, Fanelian men tended to be tall and muscular, broad through the chest and shoulders, with dark hair and eyes, though there were always exceptions. Van had noticed this often while working on rebuilding down in the city. At first, it had almost hurt, thinking he was seeing his father everywhere, but as he saw it more and more, he found it rather a fitting tribute. That he and his brother were so unique could only be attributed to his mother's blood.

A particularly thick billow of smoke wafted through them, setting both to coughing. "If you really want to fight," Van managed, "let's go outside. There's no sense burning to death in here!" He risked a glance upward, and saw that the flames were eating away at the roof, as well as the support beams.

"No!" Tesk howled. "You'll die in the flames!" He leapt to attack.

***

Hitomi could see the glow of fire now, bright against the night. It was close, so close . . . She pushed herself onward, and suddenly, she was there. The warehouse was in flames before her. She could hear shouts, but they must have been from the other side, for she could see no one. She saw the open door, and made a beeline for it. Van was in there, and she needed to get him out . . .

Timbers began falling from the roof as she stood in the doorway. The heat was intense against her face, and the smoke made her eyes water. She could hear the clash of the sword fight, but only barely over the roar of the fire. Lifting up the collar of her shirt, trying to filter some air to breathability, she entered.

It was worse than her vision. She started to gag almost immediately. Where were they? She turned to her right at the next clang of steel, one hand outstretched in front of her. The heat caused the air to move, the smoke to billow. Through a clear spot, she saw him, Van! He was coughing, but his eyes were fixed on his opponent. Tesk had backed off again, after his last frenzied assault had failed. Van stood balanced and ready, but was then wracked with a fit of coughing. Tesk, too, was gasping for air, but he stepped forward.

A sudden groaning, creaking noise from above made Hitomi look up in fear. The timbers just above them were consumed by the flames, sagging dangerously under the weight of the roof. She drew breath to scream, but choked. She knelt, to get below the smoke, but it didn't help. They were snapping, almost ready to fall . . . and she couldn't breathe . . .

Tesk gathered himself and charged . . .

_Van!_ she screamed through the link. _Van! The ceiling! Get out of there!_

Trusting her, though the force of her cry hurt him, Van jumped back, nearly falling over her. She had been almost close enough to touch him. He spared a glance at the roof, just as it tumbled down . . .

Tesk saw him leap back, saw him look up, and looked up himself, just as the fiery beams landed on him. His shout was short lived, as the beams were still heavy enough to crush him. Van staggered forward, but Hitomi rose up to catch his arm. He couldn't resist as she dragged him to the door. Luckily, despite the roof falling in, the way to the door was still clear. They were both wracked by coughing. She managed to shove him out the door, into the relative cool of the night outside. She fell after him, trying to breathe again. Deprived of the roof, the walls began to fall. She hoped they'd fall inward, but she took Van's arm again to pull him further away, just in case.

They collapsed together, against the wall of the neighboring warehouse. Through her tearing eyes, Hitomi could see that a bucket brigade had formed, but the flames were not responding.

"Let it burn," Van rasped beside her. Tears were streaming down his soot-blackened cheeks. He could feel the burning in his lungs, and he could hardly stop hacking out smoke. "Let it burn."

Hitomi took her chance to inspect him quickly for injuries, without his knowledge. Other than too long in the smoke, he appeared to be unhurt. She sighed. Thank you, God, she offered up silently. Thank you . . .

"What're . . . you . . . doing here . . . Hitomi?" he gasped raggedly. "Told . . . Allen . . . keep you safe . . ."

"I knew you were in danger," she said simply. "I had to help you. I love you." She smiled at him, as he tried unsuccessfully to glare at her.

Finally, he gave up and shook his head. He had stopped coughing for the moment. 

"Can you walk back to the castle?" she asked. "Sari needs to check you over, and make sure you're all right."

In response, he lurched to his feet, and stood swaying beside her, choking again. "Maybe . . ." he managed, slumping against the wall.

"Hitomi!" "Lord Van!" At the familiar voices, she whipped around, and was actually glad to see Allen striding toward them, with Merle running beside him. She scrambled to her feet.

Allen reached them first. He laid his hands on her shoulders and looked into her smoke-stained face, then at Van. "Are you all right?" he asked softly. Merle was fluttering about Van, trying very hard not to sneeze from the smoke.

Hitomi nodded. "But I think Van might need some help."

Allen rolled his eyes, but slung one of Van's arms over his shoulder. Hitomi took the other, though she was not as tall, and they ended up a bit lopsided. Merle ran ahead to alert Sari. "Just like my sister," Allen muttered under his breath, but he was smiling, pleased they were all right. Tottering under Van's weight, they made their way back up to the castle.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own the twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. In this chapter, I own many, many people, who I am not going to name specifically here.

Re-Visions 

Chapter 15

The sound of harsh coughing woke Hitomi. She sat up, and saw Van curled onto his side, his slim body wracked by the spasms. She nearly fell off the cot on which Sari had forced her to rest in her haste to aid him. Sari appeared on his other side, and between them, they managed to get him upright. His coughing eased a little, then subsided. Hitomi plumped the pillows behind him, and Sari laid him back so they propped him up, and breathing was more comfortable.

His eyes had begun to water while he was coughing, and he wiped his cheeks. Hitomi smiled, surprised again at how much like a little boy he looked, with his hair all tousled from sleep, rubbing his cheeks. He blinked at the bright sunlight streaming in the infirmary windows, and croaked, "How long was I asleep?"

Allen and Hitomi had dragged him into the infirmary late last night- or early this morning, depending on how one looked at things. He'd been nearly unconscious then. Sari had given him a sleeping draught and something to ease his throat, and Hitomi had told her what had happened as he drifted off. Together, they cleaned his blackened face and arms, searching for any burns or other injuries. Hitomi had been relieved all over again when they'd found none. Somehow, he'd even escaped bring stung by the floating sparks.

"Not long enough, apparently," Sari muttered in response to his question. Hitomi grinned as Van scowled. "Well, if you're going to be bad-tempered, you obviously didn't get enough rest," she continued reasonably. "I can give you another dose of the sleeping draught if you like . . ."

Hitomi laughed outright at the mingled horror and disgust the suggestion caused on Van's face. She couldn't stop, even at the look of betrayal he shot her. Still standing beside him, she took his hand. "How about some more of that honeyed tea instead?" she offered when she could speak again. "It worked wonders for my throat." Van nodded eagerly at that, with a small fit of coughing.

What Hitomi termed "honeyed tea" was actually an infusion of a number of different herbs, laced with something akin to honey, but not quite as sweet. It was meant to soothe sore throats and ease coughing in some of the more common winter ailments on Gaea. Sari went to the hearth, and returned with a cup for each of them, then settled into her chair with her own.

"Normally, Sire, for patients who insist on inhaling a building's worth of smoke," she began, her golden hands wrapped around her cup, "I prescribe a sevenday of bed rest, followed by another of light exercise to make sure the lungs are recovering properly." She looked up as Van started hacking again. He'd drawn a deep breath to protest, and found that it wasn't a good idea after all. "However," she continued when he'd spluttered to a halt. "I know the only way I'd ever be able to get you to stay in bed for a sevenday is if I tied you there and watched you every instant." Hitomi grinned, knowing the truth in her words. "So, my lord, what I propose instead is this: you stay here for the next couple of days, in bed or sitting quietly with no excitement and no complaints . . ."

"Not that you'll be able to say much," Hitomi interjected, still grinning evilly. Van could only glare at her.

"After that, as long as you feel well enough, you may go about your usual work." Her amber eyes were keen as she studied him. "You will find yourself short of breath for a while, and you'll tire easily. When your lungs have recovered, you'll know it, as you'll feel like yourself again. Strenuous activity will just make you cough for a few sevendays to come. Come down a few times each day for the tea." She raised her cup, then put it on her worktable, having emptied it.

"Now, I've got to go see some of your soldiers. One got a burn on his foot, and the other on his hands, but nothing serious. They just need another application of my salve." She picked up a worn leather satchel from beneath the table and packed her jar of salve and some rolls of bandaging into it, then snapped it closed. "I'll be back in a little while," she told them, and swept out the door.

"How do you feel?" Hitomi asked, sitting on the cot next to him, still holding his hand.

"I've felt better," he said hoarsely. He took another sip of the tea, closed his eyes as it slid down his tortured throat. "I'm glad you're here, though," he finished.

She squeezed his hand. "I was worried about you. I even tricked Allen to get away from him, so I could find you." His eyes were still rimmed with red from the smoke, as she looked into them.

"I promised I'd come back," he said solemnly.

She nodded. "I know. Please don't be too upset with me, but I had to make sure you were all right . . ."

Stifling a cough, he leaned forward to touch her cheek. "I'm not upset." Before either of them knew it, they were embracing, Hitomi's head resting on his shoulder, his arms tight about her. Van felt something strange and peaceful settle in his soul.

It was several long minutes before he pulled back. As Hitomi watched, puzzled, he started wiggling around, digging into the pocket of his trousers. He pulled something out, and grinned at her. "I meant to give this to you yesterday, before we went to the meeting, but you weren't around." She blushed, and opened her mouth to apologize, but he shook his head and pressed the object into her hands. "Just open it."

It was a crumpled bit of paper that rattled and rustled as she examined it. Carefully, warned by the noise that there were small pieces inside, she unfolded it, laying it on her lap. Inside was another piece of paper, stiffer, more like parchment, with small holes and slits. And when she turned it over . . .

"Oh!" She raised one hand to her mouth, staring at the trio of deep green jewels. The earrings were gold, each with an intricately wrought cuff that looked like it curled up the outside of the ear, from which the stone, bevel set, dangled on a chain so fine as to be almost invisible. The necklace had the same delicate chain, and the same setting as the earrings, though the gem was slightly larger. All three caught the sunlight, sparkling bright green as she lifted the parchment, hand trembling.

"Do you like them?" Van asked softly, studying her.

"Oh, they're gorgeous," she whispered. "I've never seen anything so lovely."

"Turn around, then, and let me put the necklace on you," he said, relieved. "Yes, they're yours," he continued as she turned her wondering eyes to him. "I'll tell you why after you're wearing it."

Her shaking fingers slowly unwound the chain of the necklace from the paper. The round stone seemed to wink at her as she handed it to him. She turned, as he requested, and she closed her eyes as she felt him drape it around her neck. His long fingers seemed to have a bit of trouble with the fine catch, but he clasped it after a moment. "There," he said. "Now, let me see it." She faced him again, and he touched the stone with one finger, where it rested in the hollow of her throat. "Just as I imagined," he murmured, smiling, then coughed. She handed him his cup of tea, and he could see her eyes were bright with tears.

"Now, as to why." He put his empty cup on the floor and took her hand again. "Normally, when a couple is betrothed, they exchange pledges or tokens. They're usually small- it might be a ring, or a bracelet . . . or a necklace. This," he touched the jewel again with his free hand, "is my pledge to you . . . that I love you . . . and I want you to be my wife." He glanced up, and was surprised to see the tears rolling down her cheeks. "Hitomi? Are you all right?" he asked, worry in his raspy voice.

She lifted one hand to brush away the tears. "I'm fine," she answered in a whisper. "I don't know why I'm crying." She sniffled and smiled at him. "I love you . . . and I want to be your wife . . ." Her face fell. "But you said couples exchange tokens. I don't have anything like this to give you."

He held up the teardrop pendant, still around his neck. "You gave me your pledge long ago," he said huskily. "Before either of us even said . . ." He was cut off by her sudden embrace. The strength of it startled him, and caused him to cough, but he returned it whole-heartedly.

Even so, it was too short for him, for she pulled back, ashamed, when she felt him trying to contain the wracking coughs. "I'm sorry," she offered, giving him her cup. "Here I've been making you talk, when you need to recuperate. I'll go, you should rest." She started to stand, but her pulled her back down.

"No," he croaked. "I want you to stay."

Hitomi eyed him worriedly. "Will you sleep if I stay?"

He smiled up at her hopefully. "Only if you sing," he replied, his voice very hoarse.

She sighed. "All right." He dutifully closed his eyes as she sang.

When it looked like he was asleep, some minutes later, she let the song trail off, and tried to stand without disturbing him. She longed to change out of her smoky clothes, and perhaps bathe again. Glancing back over her shoulder as she headed toward the door, she smiled, seeing him hurriedly close his eyes, and knew he was awake. _I'll be back,_ she said down their link. _I'll get you some clean clothes._ She felt him smile a bit sleepily in her mind as she left.

It was a few hours later when she returned, her hair a trifle damp from her bath, with fresh clothes for him. She found him sitting in one of the windows, one foot swinging, the other propped against the frame, both bare, though he was otherwise dressed. He smiled as she handed him his clothes, but he seemed distracted, and merely held the clothes, looking at them.

"Are you . . ." she began, touching his hand.

"He said he was my brother, Hitomi," he interrupted, closing his eyes. "I told him he wasn't, but what if I was wrong? What if he was? I just let him die . . ."

"Van," she said softly. "In Fanelia, what is the punishment for traitors?"

He glanced up at her, startled, then returned to studying his shirt. "Death," he replied reluctantly.

Standing beside him, she drew him against her, laid her cheek against his still-smoky hair. "He was not your brother. He was more a traitor to you than Folken was. Folken loved you, and he repented in the end of all the pain he caused you. Kenet Tesk hated you, he was jealous of you, and he didn't care how much he hurt you. There's no way such a dishonorable man could be so closely related to you." One of her hands stroked his hair, his back, trying to comfort him.

"I hope you are right," he muttered.

***

The first order of business, once Van had recovered his voice a little more, was reparation to the owner of the lost warehouse, who was mollified that the king came in person to offer it.

The second was the long delayed meeting between Van and Celena. Both Allen and Hitomi worried about how each would react to the other. Celena was a graceful woman, a bit taller than Hitomi, with hair the color of moonlight and eyes the same shade as her brother's. Though she was pleasant, soft-spoken, and full of dry humor, she smiled but rarely, and unlike most women, she wore a sword at her hip. Van was coolly polite, which was more than Hitomi had hoped, and Celena accepted it, later confiding to Hitomi that she knew it would be difficult, if not impossible, to change his mind.

The entire crew of the Crusade treated Celena with respect, both on Allen's account and on her own. Allen said he despaired of ever turning her into a lady, but his delight in her mere presence could not be disguised.

A few days after the fire, Allen took his leave, saying with a grin that he needed to make sure his newly rebuilt fort was still standing, that the men he'd left there hadn't turned it over to the swamp bandits. Hitomi smiled at his words, and wished him a safe journey, with a quick hug for luck. He bowed over her hand, but, seeing Van's glare, refrained from kissing it. As Allen disappeared onto the bridge, Van reclaimed her with a proprietary arm about her waist, and she giggled at his display.

The third necessary item to be decided was when the royal wedding would occur. This was put to Van by his council just after Allen's departure. Hitomi had joined the council meetings at her own request, to learn more about her future role as queen.

Lady Avengine had posed the question. Van felt his mouth gape open for a moment, then snapped it shut, considering his answer. Hitomi smiled at him. _Whatever you decide, it will be the right decision,_ she told him silently.

After a few seconds' thought, he knew what his answer must be. "It is my wish that we be wed as soon as may be," he said quietly. "But I know that we must first finish rebuilding what we have lost. Though the city below has been rebuilt, and the smaller towns and villages received no damage, we are not yet done. The castle must be restored before we can truly say Fanelia is restored. Therefore," he sighed, looking into Hitomi's eyes, "as much as I would like to say that our wedding will be tomorrow, I must say it will have to wait until repairs are finished on the castle, and we can accept guests without shame. We will combine the wedding with the official re-opening of Fanelia to the rest of Gaea, though it will be the last of the festivities." He started intently at Hitomi, and saw her blush before casting his gaze at his councilors.

Lady Avengine nodded. It was the answer she had expected. Robero Jor nodded and made note of it.

At the end of the meeting, when Van took Hitomi's hand to escort her from the council chamber, she stopped him. "I need to ask Lady Avengine something," she said quietly in response to his puzzled look. "I'll find you later." She squeezed his hand, and he nodded and left.

Lady Avengine, who had started to struggle to her feet, had resettled herself at Hitomi's words. "I'll be bloody glad when we have real chairs again," she muttered, but her eyes twinkled at Hitomi merrily. "What did you want to ask me, my lady?"

Hitomi perched on a neighboring crate, and examined the floor for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Then she looked up. "It's something that Captain Tesk told Van, just before he was killed by the roof falling. Van only mentioned it once, but I know it's bothering him. It bothers him a lot. I just want to find out if there's any truth behind it, so I can help him lay it to rest."

The older woman nodded. "What did Tesk say?"

Hitomi took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "He told Van that before Lord Goau married Lady Varie, he was in love with another woman, his mother. He told Van that he was his brother, mostly based on how much he looked like Van's father."

Lady Avengine took a moment to digest this. She cast her memory back through the past 30 years, and tried to remember. It was difficult, though, because she had been mostly running her family's trading business, and had not paid much attention to the royalty.

"Please, my lady, tell me all you can remember," Hitomi begged.

She held up one wrinkled hand. "It seems to me . . . mind you, this was nearly 30 years ago . . . Lord Goau may have been in love before he married. However, there is another thing you should know. Captain Tesk's resemblance to Lord Goau may be familial, but less direct. If I remember correctly, his mother was my . . .youngest brother's daughter's daughter. Melis married a man named Tesk, I believe. I'd check for you in our family's records, but they were destroyed." She smiled apologetically and reached out to touch Hitomi's hands where they twined on her lap. "I wish I could be more certain, but I hope what I've told you will ease his mind."

She quietly clasped the frail old hands between her own. "I hope so as well. I greatly appreciate all you have told me, my lady, thank you." She helped the elderly woman to her feet, and escorted her toward the door. She caught her breath, as if to speak again, but then said nothing.

Lady Avengine glanced at her from the corner of her eye. "Do you have another question, my lady?"

Hitomi sighed. "Yes, but I'm almost afraid of the answer." They stopped at the doorway. "My lady, I'm not royalty, or even nobility, not in my old world, and certainly not on Gaea. I'm just curious why . . ."

She smiled as Hitomi trailed off. "Why we didn't object to your betrothal to our king?" The girl nodded, biting her lip, and Lady Avengine chuckled. "My lady, Fanelia has never required its king to marry another noble. Fanels have always wed where their hearts have led them. Even if we had that ridiculous notion, we would have taken into consideration the number of times you've saved Lord Van's life. The reward would have been a title, at the very least." She laughed again as Hitomi stared at her, wide eyed. "We might even have insisted you marry him, just to keep him alive and out of trouble!"

Hitomi laughed at that as well. "Thank you again, for relieving my mind." On impulse, she bent and kissed the lined cheek. Then, blushing at her own termity, she not-quite ran down the corridor.

Lady Avengine raised one hand to her cheek, staring after the girl. She laughed. "She'll be a fine queen," she murmured to herself in approval.

***

It was more than a year before the castle was refurbished, and even so, one tower was not quite finished inside. Most of the structural work and laying of pipes was completed just before winter. But there was still work that could be done inside through the winter. Wooden panels were carved to decorate walls. Many doors, large and small, were hung on their hinges. Tiles were set in the bathing rooms. But above and beyond everything else was the cleaning. Hitomi found herself on her knees, scrubbing walls and floors more often than not. Soot still lingered nearly everywhere, and where it had been cleared away, there was still sweeping and mopping after the workmen's dirty boots. 

Merle was her nearly constant companion. She knew the cat-girl had been asked by the council to chaperone her and Van. Merle had told her so. When they told Van, he immediately turned to his adopted sister, grasped her by the shoulders and exclaimed, "Are you open to bribes?"

"What?" Hitomi looked astonished by his reaction.

Merle grinned slyly, after a moment's confusion. "I suppose that depends on what you're bribing me for."

He leaned down to whisper something into her twitching ear. A crafty look stole over her features, and she said, "I don't know. I think it's worth more than that. Don't you?" She grinned, taking in Hitomi's lost expression.

Van sighed, and released her, running one hand through his unruly hair. "All right. What do you . . ." Merle pulled him down and spoke quietly to him. He groaned, closing his eyes. "You win. But keep it simple!" She grinned, rather like the cat with the canary, and left, to Hitomi's mounting confusion.

"Van, what's going on?" she asked as he pulled her gently into his embrace.

He chuckled. "Merle has agreed to bend the rules. She'll let us have a little time alone, as long as we 'behave'- her word, not mine- when she's around. I think she's got a fairly strict interpretation of 'behave'. In return . . ." He bent to kiss her. "She does us an even greater favor, and plans most of our wedding for us." He looked down at her, growing a little concerned as she said nothing, wondering if he'd overstepped. "Hitomi?"

"You mean . . . all I'll have to do is show up on the day?" When he nodded, she sagged against him, smiling. "Oh, thank goodness. I was already starting to worry about planning everything. Well, on Earth, that's what happens," she said defensively as he grinned. "Unless the bride can give it all to her mother- which I can't do, here."

"I know. I'm sorry." He stroked her hair, troubled at her words.

"You don't need to be." She smiled up at him, forgiving. "It was my choice, remember?"

He didn't answer as she reached up to kiss him.

Furniture arrived in the castle in fits and starts through the winter, linens and tapestries and windows and draperies. It was late in the winter before Hitomi was able to devote more time to learning her role as queen. She insisted that Van, and Merle, by extension, help her learn to read the few fusty books of Fanelian law that had been long stored beneath the castle. Before any of them realized it, spring was upon them.

Then . . . everything was complete. Fanelia could be opened to the rest of Gaea again. Once Van had decided on the dates, preparations began at a fever pitch. But, in truth, much had already been accomplished.

Dignitaries from the world over began arriving, ambassadors and rulers, to make merry and make agreements. King Aston did not arrive in person, though he sent his regards by his youngest daughter. Princess Millerna very prettily made her father's excuses, then disregarded all protocol and embraced Hitomi warmly. She returned it, pleased to see her friend again.

The next few days passed in a whirlwind of meetings, balls and festival.

Finally, the day of the wedding dawned.

Despite the lateness of the hour when she'd dropped of to sleep the night before, Hitomi woke early. The thought of what the day would bring energized her, but she didn't move. For many minutes, she lay in bed, eyes closed, a smile spreading across her face. Today is the day, she thought, happiness singing through every nerve. She reached up to touch Van's pledge- she had not taken the necklace off since he'd given it to her. She remembered telling Van once that she felt that she would explode from happiness, but that was nothing compared to his. Today, she thought, staring at the ceiling, today there are no regrets, no uncertainties, there is no sadness, not even that Mom and Dad can't be here. Yes, I miss you, and I always will, but there is no room in my heart for that today. She sat up, running her fingers through her hair, feeling it brush her shoulders. Then she merely sat, staring at nothing, her arms around her knees, still wearing a gentle smile.

She had sat like that for quite some time, before the expected knock came at her door. She knew it was Merle, with Millerna and Celena, with whom she'd become good friends. They were to help her get ready. "Come in!" she called, swinging her feet out of the bed. Though it was early yet, and the wedding not scheduled until midday, she knew that with three other women to "help" her, it would take nearly the whole time between now and then.

Van woke early that morning as well, but rather than the quiet excitement it brought Hitomi, his realization of what the day would bring made him nervous. He gazed blankly at his wedding finery, hanging on the door of the otherwise empty wardrobe. It was far too early to dress in that, and he needed a bit of solitude. On the chair by his bed lay draped the clothes he'd worn the previous day. He pulled on the black trousers, similar to what he'd wear later today, and the soft red shirt. It had a little scratchy embroidery at the neck and cuffs, but it wasn't too distracting. Once dressed, he strode quickly from his room, down the corridor, to his parents' rooms.

The rooms that, after today, would be his and Hitomi's.

The new door had the Fanelian crest, carved and painted. When he entered, the sunlight was just starting to peek through the windows in the sitting room, spilling golden over the furniture they'd chosen. He wandered through the rooms- his father's study, the sitting room, where he pulled the drapes, the bedroom. The wardrobes set against the wall opposite the windows held all of his and Hitomi's clothes now, except what they would wear today. He finally allowed his eyes to rest on the giant bed, with the canopy arcing above, allowed himself to think about what would happen there tonight. Then Van realized the root of his nerves.

It was not the act that worried him. Instinct had taken over a few nights ago when he and Hitomi had been kissing, and he'd started to unlace her shirt. When she'd gently pushed his hand away, he'd come back to himself, mortified. He'd apologized, breathless at what had almost happened. But the thought of spending the remainder of his life without her, as the law dictated, had brought up a memory- the condition of Hitomi's recovery. He'd determined it to be that she would eventually have to return to the Mystic Moon. Her acceptance of his proposal, and her stated desire to remain with him had buried that memory. For more than a year, he'd not thought of it. Now, he could not stop.

He slumped into the chair at Hitomi's vanity, and scrubbed his hands over his face. She's been with me over a year now, he thought, despair creeping into his heart. Every day has been so wonderful, knowing she is here. I . . . I can't go back to how I was before she came back, being half-alive. If she is taken away . . . He couldn't finish the thought; the mere idea was too painful.

As if sensing his troubled and troubling thoughts, she entered his mind, trying to soothe him. _Van, please, don't. I've told you, I don't want to go back. The only place I'm going is down an aisle, with hundreds of people watching, and you at the other end._ A hopeful smile. _Please don't think of that anymore, love. In just a few hours, we'll be together forever, I promise._

He sighed and smiled, and let his love flow through the link to her, but said nothing. She'd left the link open, and he realized she'd been doing that more and more. _I promise, no more thoughts that aren't happy_, he thought, and was rewarded with her laugh. Inner demons laid to rest for the nonce, he returned to his room to prepare.

As she had expected, Hitomi was pronounced ready only minutes before the ceremony was to begin. Merle ran her fingers lightly over Hitomi's veil one last time, and said, "Let's go."

The wedding was outside, in the freshly laid gardens. Chairs had been set up in rows either side of a bright red runner. The castle was deserted as the women hurried through it. Millerna and Celena scrambled for their seats, and Merle squeezed Hitomi's hand before walking slowly down the carpet. Merle was gorgeous today, Hitomi thought distractedly. She wore a deep blue dress the color of her eyes, long enough that her tail wasn't seen, while her slim figure was accentuated by its hugging curves. The cat-girl had nearly reached the far end when a single flute began to play. Taking a deep breath to quiet the sudden butterflies in her stomach, she began her slow, stately march.

Her eyes found Van immediately, and she couldn't look away, couldn't stop her smile. He looked a bit uncomfortable in the unaccustomed clothes, but so very handsome. His hair refused to behave, but she didn't care. He wore no crown or circlet; another thing that Fanelians did differently was that their kings wore no crown. He wore a bright red tunic that fell to his knees, embroidered at the hem and down the long sleeves with Fanelia's crest in gold thread. Beneath, just visible at the neck, he wore a black silk shirt, and black trousers, tucked into black suede boots. The tunic was belted at his narrow waist, and it bloused over the belt slightly. She realized with some surprise that he was not wearing his sword. Allen stood slightly behind him, dressed in his finest Knight Caeli uniform.

Van turned at the first notes of the flute, and saw a vision. The most beautiful woman he'd ever seen was walking toward him, grace in her every movement. She wore a dress of the palest ivory, the skirt and bodice of rich brocade, over a shimmering chemise of the same shade, peeking out at the low neck. Over her sandy hair, flowing loose against her shoulders, was a sheer veil, held in place by a crown of creamy roses. She held a small bouquet of more roses, tied by a long ribbon of deep green. As she approached, he could see she wore the necklace and earcuffs he'd given her, the stones sparkling in the sun. He felt a nudge from behind, barely heard Allen's amused murmur, "Breathe, Van!"

Hitomi managed to keep in check her urge to run to him, and took the final few steps. She handed Merle her bouquet, turned to clasp Van's hand, and was immediately lost in the mahogany depths of his eyes. She never heard the old priest, who had once kept Escaflowne's shrine, begin the ceremony. She only heard Van speaking his vows quietly, to her alone. She never remembered saying a word, but she knew she must have made all the right responses, because suddenly, she was asked to place a ring on Van's finger. Letting go of one of his hands, she turned long enough to take the gold band from Merle.

Van felt sure he stumbled over every word he spoke, staring into her bright green eyes. Hitomi's voice was soft, but she did not hesitate in her vows, smiling at him the whole while. He felt his hands tremble as he slid the plain ring over her slender finger, and again as she did the same. Then, the priest's deep voice said, "My king, you may kiss your queen." Slowly, feeling this was a dream, he reached out to cup her cheek, and saw tears start to spill from her eyes. Closing his own eyes, he bent, and they kissed gently, as he felt a tear of his own escape. There was no past, no future. There was only this moment, when he felt he could die happy, just before the crowd roared in approval.

When they pulled back slightly, he saw her smile through her tears, heard her laughter in his mind. _Not for many years yet, my love,_ she told him silently. He smiled in return, ready to believe her now.


	16. Epilogue

Disclaimer: One last time. I don't own Escaflowne or any of its characters. I do, however, own this entire tale, now that it's finished.

Re-Visions

Epilogue

The light finally caused Van to blink and try to roll over. He couldn't, because there was a weight on one shoulder. He looked down, and smiled as memory flooded back. Hitomi snuggled more closely against him as he moved from his back to his side, to hold her with both arms. He closed his eyes again, to return to that pleasant dreamland.

The light, however, would not leave him alone, and kept dancing in his eyes. Sleepily, he opened them again, and came fully awake when he saw the figure beyond Hitomi, shimmering blue in the darkness. The girl who looks like Hitomi, he thought in surprise. Her grandmother . . . Stark cold fear struck him then. "No," he whispered, holding Hitomi more tightly against him. "No."

_Oh, stop it._ He stared at her over Hitomi's head, shocked at her impatient tone. _I'm not here to take her away. It was always her choice to stay or go, not mine._ Her expression never changed, but he had the distinct impression she was grinning at them.

"But . . . the condition . . ." he floundered helplessly.

_You will impose the condition yourself, I told you. You were the one who asked about a condition in the first place. It was never my intention to place any such thing on her coming to Gaea, because I knew she'd likely want to stay. Only when you asked, did I think about it. I never told you what it was, but in your fear and longing, you decided it would be for her to leave you. You managed to overcome it . . . mostly. But you did it- you imposed the condition yourself, not too many hours ago._ There was a definite twinkle in her green eyes.

"It was . . . to marry her?" Van asked in disbelief.

The girl snorted. _Of course it was. Lord King, I am dead, not heartless._ She started to fade away. _I don't think you need my urging, but I tell you again to take care of her._ Then she was gone.

I am such an idiot, he thought, grimacing at his own foolishness. He looked down at his wife's face, beautiful and peaceful in the moonlight, and kissed her gently.

Hitomi stirred in her sleep, and murmured, "Love you," against his shoulder.

He smiled and relaxed, closing his eyes. "I love you, too."

__

Finis

One last author's note: I would very much like to thank everyone who reviewed this work. I enjoyed your comments, and they were overwhelmingly positive. Some of you even reviewed every chapter, for which I am eternally grateful! Thanks to: kmf, (you astonished me one day with the speed of your review! I had only posted about half an hour before I received your review!) Tatakau and Charred Crunchies Co., Xelena, fanilia, Tiger Cat, Cynthia, Meghanna Starsong, Feathers of the wind, jigglykat, and all the rest! You are the best! 


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